


Midnight Rectory

by Princess_Breetlejuice



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Acid Attack, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Bondage, Bonding, Catholicism, Demon!Peter, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Manipulation, Period-Typical Homophobia, Priest!Wade, Referenced prostitution, doctor!peter, heat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Breetlejuice/pseuds/Princess_Breetlejuice
Summary: A travelling doctor starts working in Dentin, a small town somewhere on the East Coast. Father Wilson is unsettled by how deeply Doctor Parker became enmeshed in the town, and how the doctor seems to know things about Father Wilson’s past.Father Wilson realizes he's in over his head once he’s kidnaped  Doctor Parker, tied him to a cross, and hid him away in the rectory. There’s got to be a way out of this, right?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31
Collections: Spideypool Priest Fest 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains problematic content about:  
> \- Homosexuality  
> \- Sex work  
> \- Drug use  
> It’s from the perspective of a repressed Catholic priest from the 1950’s. Please do not proceed if such content is upsetting or triggering.

“Your confession needs no penance, Ms. Jones,” Father Wilson quietly stated.

Ms. Jones blinked quickly and cocked her head to the side.

“You may leave with a light, bright spirit. Good evening.”

“Thank you, Father.” She got up to leave, but she remembered something, and sat back down. “Bless your heart. I heard about what happened with Peter.”

“What happened to Mr. Williams?”

“Oh, so sorry. Peter Williams is fine, I was talking about Doctor Peter Parker. It’s too bad about Doctor Parker’s sickness. He looked perfectly fine this morning.”

Wade held back a sigh. This wasn’t the venue for a conversation, especially not a conversation he desperately didn’t want to have. “He will be well looked after.”

“Please let any of us know if we can help you.”

“I will. Have a blessed evening, my child.”

With those words, Ms. Jones left. She would likely talk with Mrs. Chester and Ms. Dalia about how Father Wilson was acting quite peculiarly. She’d talk about how his voice was pitched lower and how he was distracted from his duties. 

Wade was used to being a source of gossip. There weren’t very many people to gossip about in a town this size. Right now, he couldn’t care less. There were very important matters to attend to in the rectory. 

He closed the church’s doors and put out the candles. There were other duties he needed to attend to. He still had to sweep, which would not happen tonight. He still had to plan his sermon and clean the windows, but that, like everything else, would need to wait.

Instead of completing his duties, he closed up the church for the night and hurried away to the rectory. The sun was setting behind the small, red-brick building he’d called home for the past three years. It was a single floor house with a bedroom that fit little more than the queen size bed, a compact kitchen, and a family room. The ladies in town ambushed him one day to decorate the entire house with pastel blue, floral wallpaper.

It was a modest accommodation for a modest, quaint town. It was the kind of place that only received a visit from the postman once every two weeks. Neighbors were exhaustingly friendly, and you couldn’t jump without being asked about it. Wade liked it, most days. Perhaps the days would blend together, and one week felt identical to the next, but it was peaceful. Quiet.

Except, today he had a most unwelcome guest taking up residence. A guest who called seductively from the bedroom as soon as he opened the door. 

****

The tiny town of Dentin couldn’t keep a doctor’s practice afloat on it’s own. Doctors would come from a neighboring town if they were called upon, or doctors would drop in to tend to minor concerns. It was never on a schedule. It wasn’t worth a doctor’s time to visit regularly. Most people just dealt with their ailments the best they could on their own. 

This one, Doctor Parker, first visited one year ago, and Wade hadn’t thought twice about him. He had to be in his late twenties, or early thirties. He wore an ill-fitting, tweed sport’s jacket and an unassuming smile. His brown hair was always just a little unkempt, constantly looking like he needed a bit of a trim. His shoes were well worn and scuffed, but of good quality. They needed a good polishing. It started with one visit a month, lasting two days, much to the pleasure of the older gals. They enjoyed having a nice, handsome young man to worry over them and listen to their lengthy list of medical concerns. 

Doctor Parker was accepted into the town at remarkable speed. Wade, the pastor for the only church in town, had had to undergo a lengthy integration process. That might have something to do with the atrocious burn scars that covered his entire body. The doctor simply had to pass through and he was welcomed with open arms. 

As the months went on, he increased his visits in order to provide regular checkups to Mrs. Greenly. She was a first time mother and horribly nervous about the pregnancy. Mr. Greenly begged the doctor to visit town two or three times a month to ease his nervous wife’s mind, so he did. Late into the pregnancy, he increased his visits to every week. Even after Mrs. Greenly gave birth, he kept coming every week and no one complained.

He would arrive in town on a Saturday morning. The morning and afternoon were spent attending to the regulars. The residents knew his schedule, so they’d find him on his route to ask him to come their way when he had a chance. Oftentimes, it was not for a medical issue. They’d want him to come for tea or dinner. He would graciously accept the hospitality and excelled at making all of the residents feel special. Whoever offered dinner would generally offer him their guest bedroom or couch.

If a family could not afford his fee, he would accept other kinds of payment, including a meal, lodging, meat, produce, or services. 

On Sunday, he would attend Wade’s sermon. He’d sit in the pews, flanked by the family he spent the previous night with, and enthusiastically participated. He sang with a lovely voice, nodded and smiled when appropriate, and worshipped as gracefully as any respectable Catholic. He wouldn’t take communion, though. He admitted he wasn’t baptized, just hadn’t had the chance, and stayed seated during that part of the service.

Wade had lived an eventful life, for better or for worse. He’d known many people on every side of the law and morality. He’d seen the world beyond this tiny town. He’d seen things his lovely flock wouldn’t be able to comprehend. His experience made him hesitant to trust overly-friendly, overly-helpful people. He trusted his congregation. These people had no secrets, no sordid pasts. An innocence came from being cut off from the rest of the world. But this doctor had obviously seen more of the world and Wade couldn’t begin to understand his motivations. He’d never known a doctor to be so generous. Some might even call him perfect. Wade called him suspicious. He couldn’t voice these thoughts, obviously. He didn’t need loose lips to go blabbing to the whole town about Wade’s paranoia. 

Wade has some evidence that Doctor Parker was a shifty character. Doctor Parker would wait until the church emptied out to chat with Father Wilson. The congregation would take their time to meander onto the front lawn, where the Sunday Potluck was held. If anyone asked why Doctor Parker was waiting around for so long, he’d shyly say that he needed private counsel. 

Though, when the few dozen people left, Doctor Parker did not seek counsel. Instead, he would spend a few minutes chatting with Wade. He always started with some poignant statement, apropos of nothing. It was always jarring. Half of Wade was curious what it would be this time; half of him dreaded trying to figure out how he could possibly respond.

“I don’t visit other churches on my travels.”

Or

“There’s been a horrible rash of heroin a few towns over. Misspent youth and all that.”

Or

“You weren’t born a priest, now were you? What were you before you ended up here?”

Or

“I lost a favorite patient of mine. Not dead, thankfully, but exiled. Turns out he isn’t interested in the dolls, if you catch my drift,” he said, while playfully jabbing Wade in the side with his elbow. “There are rumors that he’s going to the city up north. ”

Or

“Father, where do you find your faith?”

Or

“I made it up to the city. Can you believe there are boys standing on the corner? Some of them dressed up just like dames.”

Or

“What do you do when you doubt God’s up there? I bet it gets mighty hard sometimes.”

Doctor Parker was merciless, pinning Wade down and flippantly flaying him open. Wade was affected by the doctor’s words and pushed down the feelings that bubbled in his chest. He dreaded the doctor’s little talks, the glint in his eye, that damned smirk. Some of his questions were ones that would be typical coming from members of his congregation, but even the innocuous ones sounded like he was playing an angle. Wade found his words came out harder, and he couldn’t speak from the meditative peace he found in his faith.

After a few minutes of tense conversation, with few words on Wade’s behalf, the pair would join the Potluck and go their separate ways. They wouldn’t speak again until next Sunday. Wade secretly hoped that the doctor would forget about their meetings. 

****

“Wade,” a voice called from Wade’s bedroom. “You left me for so long. What hospitality. The Langelys wouldn’t do this to me.”

Wade felt guilty that he had kidnapped someone. This version of Wade Wilson didn’t tie someone up and hide them away until he could figure out what to do with them. It didn’t matter that he had kidnapped a demon, nor that he felt he had good reasons to do so in the moment; it was still unbefitting of a man of his moral position. 

He pushed down the knot in his throat and dragged his feet into the bedroom. There was Doctor Parker, or the being that claimed that name. He was on a large cross, the one that used to hang on the front of the church, but had long been replaced. Wade had found a bit of rope and tied his unwilling guest at his shoulders, wrists, knees, and hips to the cross. Wade had crucified the demon, minus the blood and torture and death. It was certainly uncomfortable, especially having had to maintain the posture for an entire day, though that entirely depended on if demons experienced pain the way humans do. There was an irony to crucifying a demon, but Wade was not in the state of mind to appreciate it. 

Wade had strung up a vial of holy water from the Vatican, a gift from Father Summers, into a necklace and placed it around Doctor Parker’s neck. Doctor Parker couldn’t do much after Wade put the vial on him. His movements had grown lethargic, and his strength left him. He couldn’t resist when Wade manhandled him. This being did not look threatening after that, only restrained and vulnerable, but Wade had to stay firm. Wade had placed the cross on the bed, as it seemed kinder than putting it on the floor. The sharp angles of the cross dug into Wade’s duvet as the creature whimpered.

Some things had changed since Wade had left him there this afternoon. Doctor Parker seemed to be emitting an ungodly amount of heat. It was a cool, spring evening, and yet, when he opened the door to his bedroom, he was hit by a wave of warmth. It was like a radiator was sitting in the middle of the room, on full blast. Much to his relief, the burns on Doctor Parker’s face had healed up. 

It looked like a rainstorm had manifested in the center of the room. Doctor Parker’s shirt was soaked through and plastered to his skin. Wade could make out every inch of Doctor Parker’s torso and how his nipples were hard. Doctor Parker’s hair was plastered to his forehead. His shoes were probably a swamp, considering the rest of him. And, the good doctor was horribly aroused. It was amazing that the zipper could survive such persistent pressure. He must have been like this for hours. 

“Hello, Father,” the doctor greeted again. “You’ve put me in a state.”

Wade’s hands clenched around the doorframe. “What do you mean?” Wade could only think this was some sort of tactic for a hellish being to seduce their way out of a difficult situation. He knew this wouldn’t work on him. He was a man of God. He would not be swayed.

“Weakened, like this. I don’t have the energy to resist my heat.” He licked his lips and flexed his hands. He held his head up for a moment, but he couldn’t hold the position, and his head fell onto the cross with a thud. “It’s always there, but usually I can choose to indulge or not.”

“What is this heat? Like a dog?” Wade spat.

There was a flash of a despicable expression on the doctor’s face that quickly faded. “Oh, very good, Father. I’m exactly like a bitch in heat, desperate to be bred.” He smirked cruelly and trailed off in a moan. Given his restriction, he could only give the tiniest thrust of the hips.

“None of that.” Wade decided it was safer not to look at the creature on his bed. If only looking away would rid him of the images burned of the writhing creature. He’d seen too much. 

“This is your fault. If you hadn’t trussed me up like this, I’d be able to control myself. You need to take responsibility.” There was a frustrated tinge, almost enough to make Wade feel bad. Almost. Wade entertained the idea of putting something in his mouth to shut him up, but that struck him as a poor idea. 

“What I need is to figure out what to do with you.” He wasn’t sure why he told the creature that. Maybe he was hoping for the entity to figure out a way to get him out of this disaster. 

“You could strip out of your cassock and collar and join me. You don’t even need to untie me.” He made a token effort at tugging on the ropes. “Your hands would be delicious on my body.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“I’m sure you can bend your vows to take pity on such a poor sinner, can’t you daddy?”

Wade nearly choked on his tongue. “You need to be human to be a sinner.”

“Semantics, Father. Don’t be a bore.”

Wade wanted to be a bore again. This was far too exciting for his taste. “Can I exorcise you?”

“Why would you want to exorcise me? Don’t I look dashing, draped upon your bed, restrained by your own handiwork?”

“Answer the question.”

“Oh, darn.” The creature sighed dramatically with a frown. “You should know that that only works on demons.”

“You aren’t a demon?”

“Not quite. These things are complicated, you see. There are layers.”

Wade didn’t know if he believed that. “That explains why you could enter the house of The Lord.” He sounded unsure to his own ears. 

“That’s not why I could enter, and you know it.” The doctor sounded indignant, irritated for some reason. 

Wade didn’t know what the creature was talking about. Or maybe he did, and he didn’t want to think about it. “How do I get rid of you?”

“You could very nicely undo these pesky knots, take off this blasted necklace, and send me on my way. I won’t tell anyone about this. I promise.”

“How could I trust you? You are an agent of evil.”

“You can’t trust me. Not one, teeny tiny bit. But I don’t expect you to know what else to do with me, and you can’t keep me like this forever. You didn’t think this through, Father,” the creature calling himself Doctor Parker taunted. 

****

Dentin noticed when Doctor Parker’s cream Ford parked in front of the Thomas home before the Wednesday sunrise. To the residents, it seemed like Doctor Parker only existed on Saturdays and Sundays. Seeing him on a Wednesday was like seeing a flower bloom in a December snow. 

The church was in a wooded enclave with a long driveway, so he didn’t see the doctor’s arrival. Word travels quickly, though, among neighbors and down streets and, eventually, across town to where Wade was sweeping his steps. Around midmorning, Ms. Dalia brought a basket full of apple fritters. She went on about how Mrs. Chester had picked the apples the day before and how she had used her grandma’s recipe. She asked Wade to put in a good word with the Thomas's boy, Mr. James, regarding her baking and her charms. Before she left, she mentioned that she’d seen Doctor Parker’s car, and she heard that he was coming to the church for lunch with Father Wilson.

They said their goodbyes, and he nibbled on Ms. Dalia’s pastries. It was more apple than fritter, but he could see wedding bells for Mr. James and Ms. Dalia. They were around the same age and would make an attractive pair. While he didn’t like to engage in small town interference, he’d allow himself to help a crushing Ms. Dalia snag a nice young man. 

When he finished the fritter, he realized he had to deal with Doctor Parker’s presence. He was coming for lunch. Wade wasn’t expecting company and didn’t have a meal prepared. His lunches were modest. He’d planned on quickly preparing some toast with jam, then tending to the front garden.

He cut his morning chores short to ready himself for the unwanted company. He had to be a hospitable host on short notice, and that was stressful. His congregation sent food to take care of him, but they never asked him to host. They felt bad that he had no one to assist him in the care of himself and his small church. It was often a monumental task to plan his sermons, maintain the church, mind the grounds, provide counsel. That didn’t even include any of the labor in cooking and cleaning up after himself, or heavens help him if the church needed some repair. Perhaps the townsfolk knew hosting would be a burden, or perhaps they did not want to spend much time with him. He was rather unfortunate to look at, and he couldn’t blame them.

Thankfully, he found a nice beef noodle casserole in the ice box. Mrs. Darling had given it to him after service, with the instructions written on a piece of powder blue paper in a pleasant scrawl. Her kindness saved him from having to tear down the house to pull something together for his guest. 

He sat and tried to get through his bible study as the casserole baked. His mind drifted to thinking about why Doctor Parker would invite himself over on a Wednesday of all days. It was rude of him to expect Wade to learn of his plans through the grapevine. He felt blindsided and irritable that Doctor Parker was intruding on his busy schedule. 

He forced himself to be kind and charitable. He did not know Doctor Parker’s intentions. It did no good to flood his thoughts with negativity when Doctor Parker could have a reasonable excuse. Still, he struggled with his irritability. 

Wade decided he did not want to invite his guest into the rectory. He might have looked silly, walking with two oven mitts and a steaming dish of casserole across the lawn to the church, but he decided they would eat in his office. The office was used as a space to handle the church’s finances, so he had to shuffle the papers around to create a suitable table-like space. There was a second trip for plates and silverware, then a third when he realized he didn’t have napkins, then a fourth when he realized he didn’t have water to go with the meal. 

Doctor Parker arrived at noon on the dot. “Father Wilson, I’m delighted to see you!” He met Wade at the door, slapped one hand on Wade's shoulder, and shook Wade's hand with the other. 

Wade’s elbow was stiff, and his grip was too tight. The doctor gave no indication if it was uncomfortable. They’d never touched before and it was jarring. “Afternoon, Doctor Parker. Ms. Dalia said you’d be over for lunch.”

The doctor self consciously rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope that it wasn’t too inconvenient. I needed to quickly tend to John Thomas.”

“Oh, what’s wrong? Could you not take care of it when you were here on Sunday?” This was safe, polite conversation, and Wade sighed in relief. This might be easier than he feared. 

“He complained briefly of an earache on Sunday and asked if I would visit next week. I got word while I was in Greenville that it had become excruciating last night. I came as soon as I could. There wasn’t much I could do, aside from draining the fluid.”

“Will he live, doc?” Wade gestured for his guest to follow him inside.

“If he gets rest, drinks water, keeps his fever down,” he stressed, like he’d had to lecture Mr. John about it countless times before, “and his blood pressure in check, then he’ll be back to his cows, lickity split.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’ve never given you a check-up, have I?”

“There’s no need. I am healthy as a horse.”

“Yes, well there are signs a doctor can spot before we need to ship you off to the glue factory.”

“The Wilsons are built strong, trust me.” The Wilson family line was made of assholes, too terrible to be felled by anything other than their own hubris. They lived long, miserable lives and squandered their gift of good health. Wade had spent his entire life trying to make something of himself.

“Come on,” the doctor goaded. “There’s no harm in letting me take a listen to the ol’ ticker. Give you a little poke, test your reflexes, the whole shebang. My bag is in the car. Wouldn’t take more than 15 minutes.” He mimed the gestures associated with the actions he was describing with a goofy smile. He hadn't brought any of his equipment with him, so it was easier to refuse. 

“That is a kind offer, Doctor. Maybe another time.” He wasn’t fond of touch nowadays, nor did he want someone prodding at him. He wanted to be left alone. “We should eat before the food gets cold.” Wade was glad he had that handy excuse. 

“Very well. Are you sure you don’t need anything for the pain?”

“What?”

“The, uh --” The doctor motioned to his own face. “They look painful.”

Wade had to give it to him. Most people were too decent to bring up his scarring. “They can be.” Wade nodded carefully. “I manage, though.”

“I can prescribe something to help with that.”

Wade flinched away from the suggestion, but laughed to cover up his discomfort. “No, no, that’s hardly necessary. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

As they entered the back office, Doctor Parker dropped the subject. He seemed to have noticed Wade's discomfort, thankfully, and didn’t insist on prescribing medication. 

As the doctor sat down, Wade was embarrassed that this was the best hospitality he could provide. It was suitable, given the limited time he had to prepare. No side dishes, no juice, no coffee. Just a bare bones casserole. The other residents would be appalled to give the good doctor such a meal. Though, most residents had a lady of the house to put together something nice for their guests. Wade tried to make up for it by taking extra time to arrange the settings nicely. 

The doctor didn’t turn up his nose at the offering, much to Wade’s relief. He set the napkin on his lap and waited for Wade to serve up. He had perfect table manners, with his forearms on the table and his hands loosely clasped.

While Wade often forgot to do this when he ate alone, it would reflect poorly on him if he didn’t insist. “Can we please say grace before we begin?” He offered his hands, palms up. What would the town think if word got out that their priest didn’t pray over lunch?

“Of course. Would you do the honors, Father?” The doctor reached out, but flinched as his right hand came in contact with Wade’s left. He pulled back and resituated his hand so that it didn’t touch his ring. It was a silver ring, given to Wade before Father Summers went on his last missionary trip. “Ah,” the doctor continued, realizing he had to explain himself. “The cold gave me a shock.”

That sounded like an excuse to Wade’s ears. The ring should have been warmed up to body temperature. And even if it wasn’t, that tiny shock shouldn’t have led the doctor to continue to avoid the ring. It was a tiny detail that made Wade take note. There was something there, but he needed more information.

Wade said grace with no further incidents. The doctor gave a quiet, “Amen,” and Wade served them.

They dug in, eating for a few minutes in silence. Wade had to remember to compliment Mrs. Darling. She was an exceptionally talented cook, one of the best in town. Her dishes at the potluck always disappeared quickly. 

Doctor Parker finally took a break from his meal to ask, “Are you a Dentin native?”

“No, I’m from up north.” 

“So how’d you end up down here?”

Wade was guarded about giving information. He couldn’t help thinking that this was a horribly invasive question, but it wasn’t really. It was light conversation to go with a meal. He put his fork down and chose his words carefully. “After my education and a period of mentorship under Father Summers, I looked for a placement.” He’d tried to get placed in a number of other churches, but he had not been welcomed by those towns. They said he wasn’t a good fit, but Wade knew they didn’t want to look at his face as they celebrated God’s beauty and kindness. “This church had been closed for a few years.” There wasn’t much money out here. Other towns were booming, desperate for churches to take their growing families to. Sending someone here was a very low priority, and other pastors would prefer to preach in newer construction. “They’d travel to the next town for service. I received notice that they needed someone.” Wade had been sure that he was going to be an unsuitable fit for Dentin’s church, too. “And I’ve been here ever since.” Wade couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that he was stuck here. 

The doctor nodded understandingly, and Wade was confident that his neutral retelling was convincing. He held his tongue so he didn’t say that he never would have chosen to live in Dentin. Nothing against the town, of course. It was beautiful. Peaceful. The folks were friendly, the weather was moderate, the food was fresh. This wasn’t where Wade thought he would live his life, nor is it the life he thought he would live. God had taken him to this static point in his life for. Some reason. There had to have been a reason. 

Doctor Parker smiled, and complimented, “You are lucky to have such a lovely church.”

The church hadn't been lovely when Wade arrived. It had been dilapidated. Wade had needed to do massive repairs on the building before he could hold service or other events in it, alone and amateurish. He asked for advice, but the townspeople were cautious of him and didn’t volunteer to help. Still, after all this time and investment, some of the boards were moldy, after he’d replaced those boards three times, and it was horribly drafty. It was a battle to see to his duties while keeping the building from falling apart. Wade had never anticipated that becoming a priest would entail learning to become a jack-of-all-trades. 

The church didn’t even have a name. There was an old, rotting sign out front. It had rusted letters, most of them gone. From what Wade could tell, it once had the “Salvation” in the name, but he couldn’t make out the rest. There was no point in having a name, anyway. It was just, “The Church”. The townspeople didn’t remember what it used to be called. It must not have mattered. Actually, it was quite funny. A decade or so ago, it had been Baptist. The town had been so desperate for a pastor that they’d eagerly transitioned to Catholicism. 

He took some pride in the church he’d rebuilt. It was adequate, but hardly beautiful. It fit the needs of a town like this. Nothing more, nothing less. The doctor was flattering him, and Wade held back a biting retort. Instead, he settled for, “Thank you. It was made with honest work.” He had to fight the grimace off his face. “Why’d you start coming to Dentin?”

The doctor put down his fork to allow him to gesture with his right hand. “I was in Smallston, and there was a call for Doctor Hunter. Doctor Hunter had a broken foot, and I was helping set it when the call arrived. I came in his place, and I could tell this town needed a regular doctor.”

“I worry you will go out of business. There’s not that much money in this town, and I don’t think people are getting sick every weekend.”

“There are weeks when I come, and everyone is healthy. If no one needs my services, I tend to visit the older gals and keep them company. I think it keeps them lively and happy. Call it preventative care.” As Peter waved his right hand around, Wade noticed what appeared to be a burn on the underside of the doctor’s middle finger. It looked fresh. 

“And they pay you in pies?”

“And cakes,” the doctor said, dreamily. “And cobblers.”

“You can’t feed a family on cakes and cobblers alone.”

“No, I suppose not.” Doctor Parker returned to his casserole and took a large bite. “But it’s enough to feed me. Meatloaf, stews, well-rounded meals. Then I come to your church and it feeds my soul.”

The doctor needed the direct approach, apparently. Wade was nervous that there was a family out there, asked to live off the memory of key lime pie. It wasn’t Wade’s place to judge, but he had to know. “How do you take care of your family?”

“Oh, it’s just me. I’m a man on my own. Just my car, my knowledge, and my bag to my name. Someone called me nomadic.”

“I would think an attractive young man of your profession would have no problem finding a wife and starting domestic life.” 

“Ah, you think I’m handsome, Father? Or, what are the cool cats saying nowadays? Dreamboats?” He chuckled at how awkwardly he used the slang. 

Despite the attempt at humor, Peter’s question caused Wade to pause. He furrowed his brows and his thoughts were racing. It cemented his suspicions, but he couldn’t act on them. He may have just put his finger on what was wrong, even if it was insane. He had to create a plan. He hoped his reply didn’t take too long. “I think all of the mothers of this town would try to pair their daughters with you, if they had an unmarried one your age.”

“I hardly think that’s a reflection of my looks. Many mothers would like to brag that they have a doctor son-in-law.”

“The point stands. What has stopped you from settling down?”

“I haven’t found the right girl, I think.”

“Perhaps you are too picky. It’ll get harder to find an honest girl as you get older.” Wade didn’t know that one bit, but he’d heard things like that said. It sounded like the right thing to say for the situation.

“I haven’t found a honey worth settling down for. Until I decide to settle down I can afford to take care of these little towns. I feel like I can really do some good here, and the folk seem to like me well enough. Maybe I’ll find a dolly that I fall for at first sight as I pass through some town. I’ll just look at her and know I’ll want her forever. Then I’ll whisk her away from her small town life.” He sighed, lost in a domestic fantasy. “It’s a bit of a romantic thought. I’m sure you think that’s silly.”

“It’s not practical, but it’s not silly. It’s interesting, though, that a man of science such as yourself would have these fanciful thoughts.”

“Just because I have a stethoscope doesn’t mean I can’t dream.”

Wade noted that the doctor’s glass was empty, and they were at a good point in the conversation where it wouldn’t be rude to interrupt. “Doctor, let me get you a refill.” He snatched up their glasses and made a move for the door. 

“There’s no need, I’ve had plenty. Sit, relax.”

“No, I’ll just be a moment.”

He scurried away and returned a minute or two later. He replaced the refilled glasses, asking, “Sorry, where were we?” 

“Just silly notions of love, romance, and marriage. Were you ever in love?”

That was a complicated question and not one Wade had made peace with. He took a large bite and chewed it slowly so that he’d have time to find an answer for it. “There were times when I thought I was in love. I was young and foolish.”

“It’s funny. I always think of priests as being somehow incapable of love.”

“I have chosen to devote all of my heart to my Lord and dedicate my life towards guiding my congregation to salvation. My oath means more to me than romantic companionship.” It didn’t mean it wasn’t hard, though. He’d see the couples leave, arm in arm, and wonder how much brighter his days would be if he had someone to come home to. Or he would offer counseling, before a couple would get married, and watch two people be so deeply in love. It looked really nice. Sometimes he’d think about what it would be like to hold someone as he went to sleep and wake up to them in the morning. It was something that wasn’t possible for him.

The doctor nodded. “Very noble.” It sounded sarcastic, but that might have been Wade being too sensitive. “I don’t think I would survive the thought of never being in love. It feels like one of life’s great pleasures.”

“There are some sacrifices--” Wade paused as the doctor picked up his glass and brought it to his mouth. He coughed to clear the words that had stuck in his throat. “Sacrifices that need to be made.”

The doctor spat the water all over the last bites of his casserole and began coughing uncontrollably. His hands shot to his throat, his face turned red, and his eyes were filled with fury and fear. 

Wade watched in horror, knowing that his suspicions were confirmed. This wasn’t a human. How had an evil entity invaded a house of worship, a house of the lord?

The doctor screamed, “What was in the water?” He fell to the ground and pushed against the ground until his back was pressed to a bookcase. 

Wade thought this creature was in no position to make demands, but he couldn’t help gloating a little. “Holy water, blessed by men who are better than me.” For some reason, he wasn’t confident that it would have worked with holy water that was only blessed by him. 

The doctor was looking at the ceiling, wide eyed, heaving in rough, rasping breaths, as his hands clung to his throat. It sounded painful, but not life threatening. 

He wasn’t sure where this impulse came from, but he splashed his own glass of water onto the demon’s face. He was doing it before he thought about what it would entail. If he’d given it another moment, he would have realized that it was unnecessarily cruel. He couldn’t justify it by claiming self defense. The distressed being on the floor, in pain, wasn’t going to go anywhere. And to begin with, the creature had yet to do anything violent or evil towards him. It was a disproportionate response.

The water instantly reacted to the demon’s skin. The area became a smattering of angry red hives all over his lips, nose, and cheeks. His neck was protected by his hands, but his hands were ravaged. His groans were louder, more urgent. If that was what it was doing to his face, Wade could only imagine what it had done to his throat. 

He knew he needed to get the creature out of his church, and it was best to do it while the being was incapacitated. He took the parting gift from Father Summer, a vial of holy water he had received on a trip to the Vatican. If anything could help contain an agent of the devil, it would be water blessed by the Pope himself. 

He placed it in his pocket and tossed the anguished being over his shoulders, like a sack of potatoes. 

****

Yeah, the doctor was right. Wade had no plans. It had happened so fast. It had seemed like the right approach at the time. Now, Wade regretted involving the holy water to begin with. His test gained him nothing other than a seemingly inescapable situation.

Wade had had some weak excuses why he captured the entity, but they seemed lame now. Something about protecting others from his evil influence. But he was out of his element. This was not part of his education, and it would be difficult to get someone qualified in these matters out here. It could take days, or even weeks, to get the appropriate clergymen in. He would have a difficult time explaining that the good doctor was sick that whole time without people trying to visit.

He was the dog that caught the car and didn’t know what to do with it. 

Wade decided he needed more information. He needed to ask important questions and hope he received truthful and helpful answers. His mind told him that no good could come from conversation with an agent of the devil. The practical part of him couldn’t have this beloved doctor going off and telling the townsfolk that the priest had attacked him. They’d run Wade out of town on the accusation alone. They may like Wade and enjoy his services, but he could never compare to Doctor Parker and his pristine reputation. They still treated Wade like his scars were contagious, like his appearance indicated a lesser purity. There had to be an out, where he could return to the status quo. 

Wade was often frustrated with his routine, simple life, but he never would have wanted this wrench thrown in it.

He knew the dangers, but he decided to engage further. He pulled up a chair to the edge of the bed and plopped down uneasily. He situated himself to look at the doctor’s face, so he didn’t have to look at the rest of his sinful body. The wiggling, restrained creature tried to stretch towards Wade, but he was unsuccessful. “Did you come here for me?”

“I came here because you put me here. Not of my free will, of course, but I’m not complaining. You are so silly.”

“No, I mean this town.”

“I came here for many reasons. Why would I come to this little smudge on a map to pester the local pastor? One would think I’d have a better way to spend my time.” Despite being restrained, the doctor did not act as if he was disadvantaged. This was not the same person who set broken legs and tended to colds. He was haughty, confident, and sensual. He gave the impression that he was entirely controlled. It made Wade feel like he was the one trapped.

“I don’t know why you came into town. I don’t know why you always wanted to talk to me after church. We both know you never wanted counsel.”

“You don’t say.” Wade could hear the eye roll in his voice.

“I don’t know what you want, why you are here, why you would come to church.”

“Does that matter? I don’t think that matters. What matters right now is what you plan to do for my little friend.”

“I’m not entertaining this.”

“Come on,” the demon whined. “It would be so much fun.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“No need to be coy, Father. I know you miss having a roll in the hay with eager, virile men.”

Wade felt like he had been punched in the gut. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting the creature's knowing gaze. “What?”

“Oh Father. You thought you could run away from that forever?”

“How do you know about that?” Wade realized, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, that if the creature had been guessing, or had a strong suspicion, and he had confirmed it. But he had to have known. It was those comments after service, too knowing. The entity was telling him that he knew all about who Wade used to be. Wade probably always knew what the good doctor had been hinting at, but he couldn’t think of how someone could know what he’d done.

“I know all your shameful little secrets. I know the man Wade Wilson was before he scrubbed himself clean and created this shitty Father Wilson character.”

“I have fought tooth and nail to be a better person, demon. You are in no position to insult me.”

“Are you really a better person? Or are you still a cockslut under those robes, pretending to be respectable? Is that it? I should have demanded you untie me and bent you over the bed.”

“I have devoted myself to the Lord. You will not tempt me.”

“I’m sorry, my mistake. Did I forget the heroin? Is that the only way you can enjoy it? I don’t have any, but I have some morphine in the car.”

Wade felt like years of progress were meaningless. The Lord would always know of his sins, but how could this creature wander into his life and ruin everything he constructed. Most days, Wade tried to pretend that he hadn’t sold his body to feed himself, clothe himself, house himself, nor that he’d used a little help to make the whole thing more tolerable. He didn’t know the names of some of the substances he’d put in his body. He’d take whatever was offered. He hadn’t enjoyed the work and the drugs for a long time, and it was easier to lie to himself that he’d never liked it. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“This isn’t my fault, Father. You are the one who incapacitated me, the one who restrained me, the one who weakened me and pushed me into heat. If you hadn’t been so wrathful, none of this would have happened. You have to deal with the consequences of your actions. I wouldn’t mind if those consequences would be having my dick down your throat.”

Wade rubbed his temple and second-guessed his stance against violence. 

“I don’t know why you are resisting. You used to play with boys who looked like me. Not even for money, just because you liked boy ass over whatever dame might want to put out. You were popular at the bath houses, weren’t you Wade?”

Wade felt forced to justify himself. “I was led down a dark path by sinners. Sinners who knew no better, just like me. But I walk with the lord, now. And he guides me.”

“You walk with the lord after those countless rounds in the gloryhole.”

“He forgave me.”

“Did he really? Doesn’t your little book say certain things about men who lay with men? Abominations.” He was bitingly smug. 

Wade wanted to slap that look off of his face. He always looked at those verses and willed them to mean something else. There were certain factors, historical contexts and translational inconsistencies that could mean something else, but he’d sat through enough lectures to know what most of the church thought about homosexuals. The church knew better than the interpretations of a small town preacher. “The lord can forgive any sin, no matter how great.”

“Some of us are built wrong, born to sin in unforgivable ways. If they knew who you were, they never would have let you claim to be a man of the cloth. Your entire ministry is a sham.”

“How dare you!” he accused with a quivering anger. “They were mistakes. I didn’t want to do any of that. I was pressured. I was led astray, that’s all.” He should leave. He knew he should leave. The wanton creature on his bed was channeling the doubts that stayed on a low simmer in the back of his head. 

It also brought up painful memories. If he hadn’t been so steeped in sin, he wouldn’t have met that ruthless man. The man was a frequent client, who’d tried to convince Wade to give up selling himself. It was a romantic sentiment, that he would’ve taken care of Wade, and taken him off the street. Wade hadn’t wanted that, at the time. He was too addicted to laying with as many men as he could fit in his body in one night. He hadn’t wanted exclusivity in exchange for safety and security. He’d been with so many men that he couldn’t remember this man’s name, so he must not have ever mattered. Wade couldn’t remember his face, either.

The man had not taken the rejection well, though Wade hadn’t been coherent enough to see it. Wade hadn’t thought twice about going to the man’s place for the usual rate and eagerly took as much heroin as the man gave him. It was enough to knock him out. Then, the man splashed Wade’s face and body with acid. He’d been decent enough to cover Wade’s eyes, nose, and mouth, so that the acid wouldn’t blind him nor get in his orifices. He hoped that if Wade was disfigured, Wade would decide to stay with him because he would no longer be desirable. The man was right; Wade was no longer desirable. His clients wouldn’t hire him, and he was so frightening that he couldn’t panhandle. He’d always had attention, whenever he wanted it, and now people gave him the widest berth, like his acid burns were contagious. He refused to give up his freedom, after the man had taken his looks and his life away. He ran until he couldn’t anymore and self-medicated until the pain from the untreated infections settled. 

Father Summers had noticed Wade in the shadow of his church, cold, starving, and addicted. He asked about Wade’s story. He took Wade in, fed him, taught him how to pray, introduced him to God’s unconditional love. It was the first relationship since childhood where the man didn’t want to sleep with him. Wade never told Father Summers the whole story and it didn’t seem like the priest wanted to know. Wade denounced the Wade Wilson who worked in back alleys and vowed to become Father Wilson.

He kept his past in a locked compartment in his mind. He felt its weight, but he did not delve into its contents. Sometimes stray tendrils would squeeze through the cracks, but Wade would trim them away. Wade was fully willing to bear the weight and try to ignore it for the rest of his life. 

Wade had latched onto God after he had tasted Father Summer’s kindness. He had become convinced that the wicked man who had mutilated him had been an agent of the Lord, a way to guide him away from his sin. There had only been pain when he had pursued the pleasures of the flesh, and God had given him a second chance. God gave him a path after his sinful life had led him to ruin. 

“God is great.” Wade willed his voice to hold the conviction he didn’t feel. 

“And what about those men you attacked, when they didn’t have enough money to pay you what they promised? Savage, like an animal.”

“If they didn’t pay me, I wouldn’t have enough money to eat.” To eat, or to buy more drugs. 

“I bet you miss the teeth against your knuckles, the blood on your fists.”

Wade closed his eyes and clasped his hands together. “God is our refuge and strength --”

“You loved a fight after a solid dicking. Made you feel alive. God can’t offer you anything like that. You never would have left that life if it wasn’t for the attack.”

“-- an ever present help in trouble.” He could still see the writhing seducer on the back of his eyelids.

“I know I arouse you. I know your restraint is thin. You’d let me pin you down and see how deep I could reach inside you.”

“Therefore we will not fear --”

“I’m right here. It would be so easy to reach out and touch me. Have me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

His hands were aching with how tightly they were gripping each other. “-- though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea --” 

“I know your best spots. I know about that little bit on your lower back that you like sucked.”

“-- though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.”

He thought the prayer would give him clarity, but he opened his eyes to realize he’d begun to reach out to the siren. He glared at his hand like it had disobeyed him. What would he have done if he touched the creature? Would he be able to stop?

“I’ll be so good; the best you’ve ever had. I can give you what you’ve been missing. I can fill the voids you’ve been trying to shove God into.”

Wade recognized that he should have left earlier. Every moment in the demon’s presence was watering the seeds of doubt that were buried in his mind. He’d gotten some useful information, and he hadn’t come any closer to figuring out what to do. If anything, he’d grown further trapped in a web of the doctor’s design.

It had been a long day. His peaceful morning felt like a lifetime ago, a time before the entity known to him as Doctor Parker had ruined everything. He needed to think and beg God for an answer. It was foolish to engage anymore, at least for the time being. He thought about delivering some biting words before he made a theatrical exit, but there was too much at stake. Every word out of this creature’s mouth was an invitation for more doubt to fill Wade’s heart. 

Without another word, he rose from his seat, closed the door, and sat on his sofa. He needed a little sleep, that’s all. It was hard, though, knowing that he was just a little more trapped. Even if he could summon a bishop, or whoever handles matters of supernatural beings, to Dentin, the creature would spill his secrets. And if he let him go, he would blab to the town. The only way he could think to secure his position would be to slay the creature, and he was no murderer. 

He took up residence on the couch. He hadn’t thought to grab his sleeping clothes before he left, and he decided he couldn’t go back. He settled for sleeping in his underclothes, unbuttoning a button or two on his undershirt. He’d never had a reason to sleep in the family room before and the couch definitely wasn’t built for sleeping, but Wade was so tired it hardly mattered. 

****

Wade was awoken from his uneasy slumber with a jolt. It was dark, and it didn’t feel like he’d slept for long. It was probably still Wednesday. 

The sound that woke him came from his bedroom. He stared at the ceiling and debated whether it was worth his time and emotional energy to check on his involuntarily held overnight guest. 

He eventually went to the bedroom to see what the commotion was about. The creature’s entire body tensed and he convulsed while making a horrifying sound. It was a mixture of a scream and a moan, and it definitely wasn’t human. It was ear splitting and sounded like pure agony. The temperature in the room increased another few degrees. Wade was tempted to remove some clothing to make himself more comfortable, but thought better of it. “Sorry,” the doctor apologized breathlessly. “This is torture. My body is screaming to be touched. I burn. Please!” he begged. “Please release me, just one hand. I need one hand freed.”

“You will escape.” Wade gripped the doorframe tightly, anchoring him to the spot. 

“I will not. I am too weak to undo these binds.” He flexed at his restraints, and the rope did not move one bit.

“Will it kill you?”

“No, it wouldn’t, but I wish it would. I can’t stand it. What did I do to deserve such torture?” A sob broke out of his throat. “I will be stuck, wanting and wanton, until the holy water is removed.”

Wade grimaced. Even though he wasn’t a murderer, it was disheartening that there wasn’t a hands-free way to kill this thing. It would still be terrible to stand by as this creature died, but it would be clean. He could tell the town that the doctor, who didn’t have a family, had passed in his sleep, and life could go on like normal. They’d bury him in the graveyard. Wade would give the demon a proper Christian burial. That was the only way he could think to remedy the situation. 

He chastised himself. God may have forgiven him for his past, but he was not thinking in a way that glorified God. He was better than this. He couldn’t let his frustration turn him into a shameful person. 

“Why do you go into heat? It seems like a weakness.”

The creature levied a look at Wade, like he couldn’t believe he’d ask this kind of question considering his state of distress. “If we can control our heat, it makes us fantastic lovers. Very eager and appealing,” he answered with slurred speech. He opened his mouth wide to pant. “I wish I was less eager right now.”

“I assure you, the feeling is mutual.” If the creature was less eager, Wade would have been able to get some damned sleep. He was still too exhausted and raw to find clarity in his thoughts. 

“Since you will not indulge me, I can only beg to allow my own release.”

“It won’t make it better.” Since it wouldn’t lessen until the holy water was removed, an orgasm shouldn’t fix anything. 

“It can’t make it worse.”

This was ridiculous. He could undo the binds and allow the creature a measure of reprieve. He could also do absolutely nothing, plop a pillow over his ears, and go back to sleep. Still, he had pangs of guilt over kidnapping someone who had yet to do him harm. The demon had, thus far, been harmless. His very nature indicated that he couldn’t be up to anything good, but Wade had not given him the opportunity to prove his wickedness. Wade couldn’t help thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to offer this kindness, however lewd it may be. It might shut him up, too. 

Wade hesitantly untied the doctor’s left wrist from the cross, and held it firmly. Like the creature had said, he couldn’t escape. The arm held very little strength, and none of it was dedicated to getting away. Wade reattached the left wrist and positioned the tie off point near the demon’s feet. If the demon had the wherewithal to try to untie the left wrist after Wade released the right, the demon would need to reach down to the tie off point. Since the demon was tied at the waist, he couldn’t bend to access the tie-off. He shored up the other knots until he was satisfied that the creature would not be able to slide or pull out of the binds. 

Wade very carefully ignored how the creature’s eyes landed wherever their skin met, or how the creature used the tiny amount of movement he had to push into Wade’s grasp. 

Wade released the right hand and turned to make a speedy escape. He didn’t need to watch how the creature’s hand shot down towards his crotch.

Though he wasn’t fast enough didn’t make it to the door before he heard, “Father, please.”

Wade spun on his heels and crossed his arms. “What?” he asked in a rude tone. Wade didn’t care; he didn’t need to be polite to unwilling demon houseguests. 

Wade’s eyes drifted down to where the demon was pawing at his pants but was no closer to opening them. His fingers played with the button, but the fabric did not move. “I’m too weak to undress. Help me please.”

Wade just wanted to sleep. He was too raw. He was 90% sure that this was some sort of ploy, but he had also felt the lack of strength behind the doctor’s movements. He figured that he had come this far and avoided any untoward contact. His faith was strong, and his resolve was like stone. 

He reached down to the demon’s pants and unbuttoned them. As he went for the zipper, the being thrust his crotch into Wade’s hands. Wade pulled back, clutching his wrist like his hand had been burned. In the split second that the demon’s clothed cock had been in his hand, Wade had mapped out every feature of it. All he could think about was how heavy it was, how rock hard it was. His mind was filling in the blanks, figuring where his veins bulged and what shade of red it had turned, after being aroused for so long. 

Wade had tried to be so careful as not to think about the creature sexually. He’d wanted to consider the being a rabid animal that he needed to treat with caution, lest he get bitten. This creature, though, wore the skin of a man. A man that was hot and wanting. A devastatingly attractive man with pale skin, glistening hazel eyes, and artfully ruffled hair.

And Wade. Well, Wade was only a man.

But he was a man of God, so he took a deep breath, batted away the creature’s hand, and went back to the zipper. He took more care this time to grasp the zipper by the tips of his fingernails. As the creature thrashed and ground his hips, Wade dropped it and had to pick it up again. It did not help that the demon was ineffectually pawing at his crotch to get a hint of friction. Soon, the pants were open and, even through his underwear, Wade could smell the thick scent of sex. It reminded him of back alleys, on his knees, worshipping in a very different way.

The demon shoved his hand into his parted pants, but soon whined because he could not get the kind of friction he wanted. “I can’t. It’s so good, but not enough.”

“It’s more than you deserve.” It was more than Wade should have allowed.

“Please, I won’t be able to finish like this. If you leave me like this, you might as well not have untied me at all.” It was clear the being was having a hard time focusing. His eyelashes fluttered tearily when he remembered to open them.

In his mind, Wade cursed the greedy thing that had taken up residence on his bed and imbued it with impure sentiments. Wade was going to burn the bed and sheets that were stained in sweat and other bodily fluids. But he was in this deep; he’d come so far and clung to his decency. He might as well keep going. “What do you want me to do?”

“Lower my pants? Please? I promise I’ll let you leave me after that,” the creature pleaded and he sounded so incredibly genuine, like he felt bad for asking, but needed Wade’s help like he needed breath. He hadn’t stopped rubbing himself as he spoke, but it was clear he wasn’t getting much pleasure. There wasn’t any room to wrap his hand around and stroke himself. “I’ll try to be quiet, too, so you can get a good night's sleep.”

Wade knew he shouldn’t trust this, but he felt like he only needed to do this one last thing. It would only take a moment anyway. He dressed and undressed himself everyday. What harm would it do to relieve this cursed being’s agony by moving his clothes around? Wade was firm in his faith, and he walked hand in hand with God. He was in control. “You’ll behave? Not try to fill my mind with more doubt?” It sounded like an admission, but Wade hadn’t meant it to be. 

There was a look that crossed the demon’s face that Wade very much did not like. It was there and gone quick enough that Wade wasn’t sure it had ever been there. “I’m too preoccupied to use my tricks. Do you need to hear me beg? I will beg and promise anything you want.”

“You’d promise to leave in the morning, and never return?”

“Whatever you want. Please, be merciful.”

Wade knew he couldn’t trust the creature, but the desperation and earnestness swayed him. “This is the last bit of levity I can give you. And I only do it so that you go on your way, and never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

The pants were not easy to work down. Wade had very little room to pull at them, with how tightly he had bound the creature. He had to touch the other’s skin far more than he would have liked to drag them down his legs. The material would only give a little bit at a time, and its solid construction meant the stitches held firm. Wade could not avoid pulling down the creature’s undergarments with the pants, but that was probably for the best. The demon could not claim that the undergarments were in the way of his pursuit of pleasure. 

Wade heard a noise as the creature’s throbbing member touched the air. At first it was just the head, nearly purple and dripping. It produced copious amounts of fluid, even for a man that was this deeply aroused. It wasn’t just sweat that had soaked his garments, apparently. He had been this aroused for an entire day. While Wade had not experienced anything like this previously, he felt somewhat sympathetic, based on his decade of celibacy.

Wade didn’t realize that, as every inch of skin was exposed, his breathing became shallower and faster. He didn’t recognize that his face was getting closer to the creature’s bare skin, nor that he was biting his lip. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he pressed a closed mouth kiss to the creature’s thigh, right beside the head of his dick. The creature’s manhood grazed Wade’s cheek and the heat, the scent, the need made Wade weak. He had fought, but he was only a man.

All he wanted now was to drive inside the creature’s body and burn the heat out together. In that moment, nothing felt as right as funneling years of need into the demon.

Wade told himself that the creature was named Peter. Wade should refer to him as such, because he was not a doctor or creature or demon now, just Peter. It was weird to think of him as Peter, as he’d never addressed him as such aloud.

He slipped Peter’s cock into his mouth and immediately set to sucking it dry. He’d missed having a full mouth. He wasn’t used to this anymore, and his jaw quickly began to ache, and Wade absolutely loved it. He took it down to the base and abused his own throat. He wanted it bruised. He wanted to not be able to talk tomorrow. He wanted his throat to bulge where the cock had been. 

Peter was saying something, but Wade was too busy reacquainting himself with the joys of cocksucking. He didn’t even flinch when the dick pulsated and his mouth was flooded with seed. Wade didn’t swallow immediately. He needed the thick, salty taste to linger on his tongue. He didn’t let a drop escape his mouth. 

Much to Wade’s delight, Peter’s dick didn’t soften. It stayed hard and needy. It was a good sized cock that would be perfectly at home in Wade’s ass, but it had been too long. Wade might actually hurt himself from his own eagerness. And what had Peter said before? Something about begging to be fucked. Wade was more than happy to comply. He wanted nothing more than to fill Peter to the brim. 

He lifted up the cross to get to where he had tied the knee restraints, while he luxuriously lapped at the creature’s dick. It was considerate of him to have created something of an easy out, where Wade could release it single-handedly by manipulating a few key sections of rope. It took a little fancy maneuvering, but Wade was unwilling to part with the dick in his mouth. He’d missed it so much. How had he gone so long without allowing himself this? 

Peter immediately spread his knees, but they were trapped by his underwear. Wade let the cross fall back and took the opportunity to reach under his partner to feel his hole. It was incredibly wet, and Wade could easily push a finger in. He then tried two, then three, and there was absolutely no resistance but it still felt wickedly tight. This hole was meant to be fucked, practically begged Wade to give it to him hard and fast.

Wade tore off the necklace he had used to incapacitate Peter off and threw it onto the floor. Wade was enraptured by the heat and nearly nauseous with desire, but he refused to lie with a man who couldn’t stop him if he went too far. He wanted to be held in return, squeezed and clawed at. It did not pass through his mind for one second that the creature would try to get away once he was freed. Wade forgot that once the holy water was removed, Peter would be able to control whether or not he burned with the heat. Wade was swept away in the flow, and nothing mattered aside from fulfilling his desires.

The removal of the necklace meant that Peter was now an equal participant in the proceedings. The change was immediate, and Wade soon learned how strong Peter was. Peter tore himself out of the rest of his binds, like the rope was made of sugar thread. 

Wade and Peter moved as one as they worked the cross off the bed. They were so lost in their fever that they were startled by the sound of the old cross slamming loudly on the floor, pinned between the bed and the wall. It was calamitous. It meant something, but Wade forgot it happened after the startle wore off. Things like symbols and metaphors were beyond his grasp.

Peter’s hands clasped around the back of Wade’s neck, holding him in place to thoroughly explore his mouth with his own. Peter’s tongue singed the tip of Wade’s, but Wade was undeterred from delving deeper. Wade wove his fingers through Peter’s hair, feeling silken locks that were so much softer than his ever were. They held each other, tighter and tighter until they melted into each other. Wade was flush against him, rubbing his clothed erection against Peter’s freely weeping dick. 

Without warning, Peter moved one hand to Wade’s ass and smoothly flipped them over. He straddled Wade in a way that allowed him to grind down for the best kind of torment. That touch, even if it was through clothes, felt heavenly. Peter kept a slow pace while he unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off his body, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Wade took in the curves of Peter’s incredibly well defined stomach muscles, how beautiful and pink his nipples were, the sharp angles of his collar bones. Renaissance painters would kill for such a model. The sight was too much for the repressed man. 

Wade took the chance to grip at Peter’s delightful ass. So firm and full in his hands. His fingers wandered over to Peter’s hole and slipped in with the lightest of touches. One finger became two without the slightest bit of resistance, but he was still holding Wade so tightly. No matter how many fingers were inside of Peter, it was snug, but never uninviting.

Wade had three fingers from both hands as deep as they’d go in Peter’s hole before Peter had enough. He slid up to straddle Wade’s stomach, which Wade took as a chance to slide in a fourth finger. Peter reached behind him to Wade’s pants and tore them like wet tissue paper. Wade’s underwear soon suffered the same fate. 

“Do you want me, Father?”

Hearing his title sent shocks of shame through Wade, but the overwhelming need drowned it out. “Yes.”

“How much?”

Why was Peter talking? Talking was so hard, so pointless. Peter’s hand was around Wade’s arousal and he could feel how hard and needy he was. “More than anything. I need you.”

Much to Wade’s distress, Peter crawled off him. Wade became much less upset when he realized that Peter had moved to present himself on his hands and knees. This was easy; this was what Wade wanted. He knew what to do when he was faced with a man whose body begged to be taken. 

He took the invitation for what it was and clambered up and gripped Peter’s bountiful ass. He held it tighter than he needed to, but the moan that flowed out of Peter didn’t sound pained. He aligned himself and pushed in without hesitation. Wade fit inside of Peter like he was meant for him and the heat was killing him. 

Wade couldn’t help shedding blissful tears and he choked on the wet heat. The pleasure was like devouring a juicy steak after subsisting on communion wafers. There were day to day pleasures in being a priest in Dentin. It felt nice to give counsel and repair relationships. He felt satisfaction when he thought about all the work he did to create a quaint church. But this? This ecstacy was something that would make him throw that all away.

Soon, Peter’s hips were too slick to hold onto, and Wade wove one hand into Peter’s hand and the other onto his dick. 

Despite the late hour and Wade’s desperation, he lasted for what felt like eons. He decided to take Peter in every position he had ever fucked or been fucked in, plus some positions he thought up. He slung Peter around like an oh-so-willing doll. He contorted Peter into absurd configurations that had to have been a stretch, but Peter fit them easily. Peter never protested, never asked for anything other than more. He proved able to take it as roughly as Wade’s mortal body could provide. Wade fucked him like Peter had the key to salvation in his body and Wade only had to dig deep enough to find it. 

Wade had never fucked or been fucked with such animal ferocity. He made sounds he didn’t recognize. He felt separated from his own body as he ran entirely on instinct. It was like he was lost in the heat, too. 

Despite being exhausted and sore, Wade wasn’t ready to finish. He wasn’t even sure if he was still enjoying himself. He wanted to languish in the hedonism he had denied himself until he had to go back to whatever cruel reality awaited him. Regardless of his wants, his orgasm blindsided him. Wade filled Peter with close to a decade’s worth of repressed sexual frustration. 

The splash of heaven behind his eyes was beautiful. He couldn’t even find it in himself to regret the temporary insanity that overtook him and made him break his vows. Wade had barely begun to feel the weight of dread settling in his stomach when he was struck with a pain that was easily the worst he had felt in his entire life.

The pair screamed in unison, a searing pain blossoming on their left thighs. They each scratched and pulled and rubbed at their leg in an effort to relieve it, but found no reprieve. The pain lasted a few minutes and they held each other as they suffered. Either would have preferred to cut off their leg with a butter knife than endure the agony.

The onslaught ended suddenly, and they were left with a ringing silence. His head was quieter than it had ever been before, as if Wade had had a tiny buzzing in the back of his head that he hadn’t noticed until it had stopped. Wade was heartbroken. There was a connection that had been there his entire life, and now it had vanished. 

Wade was the first to roll away to inspect the area where the pain had come from. Carved into his leg was some sort of symbol, a series of lines and concentric circles that made his head dizzy. He ran his fingertips over the uniform divots. They were consistent in depth and width, and he marvelled at how perfect it was, despite the scar tissue it was sliced into. The edges were crisp, nearly exact right angles. 

It took him too long to realize that his fingertips had turned a deep purple. The darkness, smooth and inky, faded into Wade’s natural skin tone at his elbow. It looked like he was wearing long gloves, except that his fingers were tipped with long claws. His hands looked more angular and stronger, and his veins were more prominent. Wade rubbed at the discolored skin, but it didn’t budge. There was something behind him, connected to muscles that didn’t exist before to manipulate an appendage he hadn’t had before. It swiped across the bedding, and Wade could not summon the strength to investigate it. 

Too much had happened. Wade had broken his oath, and his encounter with the demon had fundamentally changed him. He felt his betrayal of God, and Wade curled in on himself. 

“What did you do?” It was an accusation, and he was too shocked for the words to hold the right weight. Instead of angry, he sounded terrified and frantic. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Peter stroked his ashen arms with his sharp claws, smiling at the sensation and marvelling at his new appearance. He looked absolutely smitten with himself. Wade noted that Peter now had jagged, onyx horns. They glistened in the light as Peter shifted his head. “Other than tempting you. All this--” He motioned to Wade’s physical changes. “--is a response to your surrender to the corruption.”

“What am I?” Wade felt a weight on his head that he hadn’t before. He assumed he now had horns similar to Peter’s, but he couldn’t let himself touch them. It was already so real; he didn’t need more proof. 

With a degree of gentleness that the creature that ruined his life shouldn’t be capable of, Peter held Wade’s hand in his own and replied, “We are demons, Wade.” He said it like he was trying to soothe a spooked animal.

Wade was a demon. That truth almost made him shatter into a million pieces. He didn’t feel suddenly evil. Despite the physical changes, he didn’t notice anything different about himself. He didn’t know what that meant about the kind of man he was. “I thought you were a demon already?”

“No, I fell from grace centuries ago. My halo was cracked, my feathers were plucked, but I needed a final act to become a demon.”

“And seducing me was your final act.”

“I thought it might be. There’s not exactly a manual for this, and I didn’t want to commit any of the more heinous acts that violated my personal code.”

Wade huffed. It was ridiculous. How could Peter, once a servant of God and now of Satan, claim to have a conscience? “I don’t know why I was damned too. I sinned, but all I’ve learned there is no sin too large to be forgiven by God. That’s what I was told. I believed it.”

“I don’t know why you fell. I felt that my influence would push you away from the church, and back to promiscuity, but not this. I didn’t know this was possible. I urge you to think of yourself as lucky, though. It’s only one step down for you.” He placed the palm of his hand on Wade’s cheek and Wade did not have the energy to refuse the contact. Wade felt the scrape of Peter’s claw on his ear. “From human to demon. I languished in the middle for so long I didn’t even know what I did to get cast down. Isn’t that cruel? To rip me out of heaven and send me to earth as one of the fallen. To do what? I can’t repent. It’s a one way trip down, and it took me centuries to get to where I belong. I was made to be like this. I’ve seen you, Wade Wilson. I know you were made for this too.” 

Wade put his head in his hands and a hiccup stuck in his throat. “Why? Why me?”

Peter stroked Wade’s cheek. “Your heart was calling me. I felt it pull me into this town, into your church. I saw you on the pulpit and I knew that you were it. I knew you would be the one to damn me.” He kissed Wade’s temple, and Wade hated how much comfort it gave him. “You damned me so beautifully.”

“No, you did this! You forced this on me.”

Peter’s face hardened. “How did I do anything? Your actions are your own. If you had released me and let me go on my way, I would have left and never returned. If you had resisted me, you would have been a little priest in a little town forever.”

That made it sound like a test that Wade had failed. “You had to have done something to me. That wasn’t me.” The denial sounded hollow to Wade’s own ears. The desire, though dampened by pain and despair, still thrummed under his skin. “You and your heat did something to me.”

Wade could see that Peter believed Wade as much as Wade believed his own words. Peter took on a pitying tone. “I don’t have the power to make you do something you don’t want to. It wouldn’t be your sin if I forced you to do it.”

Wade thought, again, that this could be a piece on the pile of lies. It would be so easy to blame Peter and his sex-mussed hair and his shapely sillouette. In his heart, Peter’s word felt true. Wade knew he hadn’t succumbed to some lustful fog. 

Resigned, broken, Wade asked. “There’s nothing I can do to reverse this, is there?”

“Some things are beyond repair.” Peter almost sounded sorry. “You’ve severed your bond to God.”

That was it. The quiet thing that had lingered, had been with him from birth until now, was severed forever. He’d given in to his lust and his anger as he’d ruthlessly made space for himself in Peter’s body and pushed his seed as deep as it would go. Peter’s body was meant to tempt, but Wade’s resolve was meant to withstand such seductions. Wade was too weak. It was what he had always feared; he was not worthy of God’s love and never had been. His mind and thoughts were his own now. God could no longer hear his prayers, could no longer peer into his thoughts. It felt like abandonment. 

Wade was alone. Even more so than he had ever been before. He was now the hideous monster he had tried not to be. “Am I,” Wade said in a barely audible tone. “Am I going to hell?”

“Not yet. You are too shiny and new. You need time to make peace with it, and learn your strength.”

Wade had studied religion for years; he had to know. “What’s down there? What awaits us? Torture? Fire? Brimstone?”

“Torture? For some, not for us.” Peter laughed giddily at some private joke. “Unless you want that.”

Wade was annoyed that Peter had avoided most of his question. “Have you seen it? What does it look like?”

“I can see it in my dreams. I close my eyes and I am drunk on the feeling of smoke coating my lungs, and of burning limestone under my feet. The flames lick away at the corners of my vision. They are waiting for me.”

The way Peter said it, so wistfully, did not match what he was saying. Wade did not know how Peter could want to go there, or why Wade had to go, too. “How do you know these visions to be true?”

“Faith, Father.” Peter’s use of Wade’s former title was like a kick in the teeth. “I have been suffering, and these visions are like an oasis in the desert. There has to be more to my eternal existence than wandering from town to town, urging a bit of mischief or deceit along the way. Is it wrong of me to want more?”

While Wade had no idea what it was like to be a fallen angel, he could not find the goodwill in his heart to be sympathetic to Peter’s plight. There was obvious pain in Peter’s voice, and he must have gone through some hardship. It didn’t make Wade feel any better that his suffering served to ease the pain of the thing that was going to send him to hell. 

Wade steadied himself and decided he needed to figure out how they were going to move forward. “What do we do now?” He said we, because he couldn’t bear to think about Peter leaving him on his own. Peter couldn’t leave Wade alone after what had just happened. He felt just as purposeless as he did after the attack, and he would not be able to find comfort in God’s light again. At this point, he had no choice but to follow Peter’s lead. 

“We will travel. I’ve been in the tristate area for a few years, and I think it's time to move on. We can go out west. I’m sure Montana could use a doctor.”

Some of Wade’s anxiety lessened. Peter had some sort of a way forward, and he was including Wade in it. There were logistics they could figure out later, like what Wade was going to do while Peter working as a doctor, or how Peter’s previous facade would work with two men. It was unlikely that families would invite a doctor and his horribly scarred companion to stay the night. Or how they were going to hide the horns and claws while they pretended to be human. But those issues would be dealt with once they were out of Dentin. 

Dentin, which had grown to feel like a friendly prison. He would not miss the people he had once served. They were not bad people, but their simple charms had long worn off. These people had simple lives, simple problems. They confessed to simple, petty quarrels that never amounted to anything. 

He was unbothered by the thought that he would never return to this place, would never see these people, would never know how their lives played out. It was odd to think that he had been so enmeshed in this community and he was going to leave it. He was going to start fresh as a newborn demon in fucking Montana. Wade had never expected his life would take this turn, but he’d never accounted for Peter. “I’ll follow you wherever, I guess. Just do me a favor, and don’t leave me on the side of the road.”

“I wouldn’t. And if it makes you feel better, I couldn’t.”

“Why couldn’t you?”

“We share a bond. Don’t you see how our seals match?” Peter traced Wade’s marks with reverence.

Wade hadn’t thought twice about the matching seals. He thought those might be the mark all demons receive. “Huh.”

“Seals have a language.” Peter inspected his leg and traced specific curves. “I see pieces of you and me in it, in a language I don’t understand well.” He got to a certain point, where three curves and a line met, and smiled fondly. “I think this part is about our bonding. It’s hard to tell, though. Every piece of the seal influences the other pieces of it. It’s very complicated.”

Wade could not find it in him to be interested in the demon seal language. “So what does this mean?” Wade reworded his question, because he didn’t want Peter to go on about the language of the seal. “What does being a bonded demon mean?”

Peter shrugged, all casual-like. “Frankly, I don’t know.”

Wade waited for Peter to go on, maybe say what he did know, but he went to inspect his toes. Those were claw tipped too, with the same black marks that licked at his knees. Peter’s tail, a thin black whip with a smattering of coarse fur, was wrapped around his thigh.

“I understand you have many questions, but I don’t have all the answers. The only thing I know right now is that I could not dream of parting from you. I see the seal on you, and I know you are mine and I am yours. I can feel echoes of your mind. I can feel your distress and confusion and contradictions. I think you’ll be able to feel me, with time.”

Wade liked that. He had been abandoned so many times in his life that he melted at the opportunity to keep someone at his side. Even if that someone was a demon. Even if Wade was a demon. 

Right now, the journey ahead was uncertain and soul crushing, but Wade could see finding some peace eventually. At this rate, he’d have plenty of time to adjust to this life, and he would have companionship the entire time. He had to keep moving forward. He had to accept eternity.

But for now, he was allowed to mourn. He cried into Peter’s arms as he grieved the loss of his humanity, the loss of God’s love, the loss of the precious stability he had found in shitty little Dentin. 

****  
Thursday morning, Doctor Peter Parker’s car was gone from the church parking lot. No one saw him leave, but they assumed he had suffered a short cold and he’d gone off once he felt better. 

No one noticed Wade was gone until that evening. The knitting circle arrived, and they were not greeted at the church doors by Father Wilson as they always were. They searched the church, the church’s office, and finally the rectory. It looked like he’d left in a hurry; his bed was unmade and, oddly enough, the old cross was laying on the floor. There was no sign of him. 

They wondered if, perhaps, there was an emergency somewhere in town that called him away. They did sit for their two hours of time they scheduled in the church, but they were concerned about their pastor.

The concern intensified when Mr. James checked up on the church on Friday morning, after the townspeople had confirmed that not one of them had seen him. 

They initially thought the disappearances of Father Wilson and Doctor Parker were unrelated. They figured that Father Wilson may have gotten a ride out of town, coincidentally, after Doctor Parker had left. They assumed both would return, eventually. When the weekend came, they assumed Doctor Parker would return for his weekly trip, but excused it, seeing as he’d just been in town. It took four more weekends for the town to give up on his return.

They searched through the church and rectory for some clues about Father Wilson’s sudden departure. Father Wilson hadn’t left a note. Everyone agreed he owed them that much after how they had taken him into their town. His bible was open in the family room, and his rosary was set neatly on the counter. There weren’t many clothes missing. The sheets were gone but the duvet was carefully placed on the bare mattress. They expected him to return.

They gave up on Father Wilson’s return after he wasn’t back by the time the first Sunday came.

The church fell into disrepair. It took another four years for the church to find a new priest. When they did, the church became Presbyterian. There were some grumbles about having to change denominations again, but they hoped this priest wouldn’t abandon his post.

Doctor Parker and Father Wilson faded from their minds as life went on.


	2. Chapter 2

They slept for a short time, though Peter suspected that Wade hadn’t been able to get to sleep. When they awoke, they appeared human again. Neither knew how the horns, claws, and tail disappeared, but it wasn’t important. Wade scraped his few secular possessions together. Most of it was tools. Peter thought it was a shame. Humans liked their things, and a lot of them had cherished items to remind them of happy times. Wade didn’t have trinkets from past lovers, momentos from family members, souvenirs from places travelled. He fit the totality of his earthly possessions in the small tote that he’d once used to move into the church. It hadn’t taken more than ten minutes to collect his belongings, and Wade hadn’t deliberated on whether to keep or leave anything. 

Peter had a tattered postcard from Helena, Montana stuffed away in the trunk of his Ford. It came with the car, telling a woman named Susan that, “You should bring the kids! It’s beautiful here.” That was enough for Peter and decided it was a nice enough place to start. He was comfortable with waltzing into a new town, chatting up a few locals, and figuring out where his services were needed. It wasn’t uncommon to hear about Aunt Mary, who really needed that leg looked at, but hadn’t gone over to the next town over to get it checked out. It was a pain to try to get clients through word of mouth again, but he’d done it enough times that he wasn’t concerned about it. 

Wade didn’t talk for the entire first day. He looked out the window with glazed over eyes and barely moved from his slouched posture. He was dressed in the only casual outfit he had, a light green half sleeve button up and black trousers. While the outfit suited him, the broken look in his eyes did not.

Peter tried to engage him in conversation, but it was one sided. He could only hope that Wade would perk up, eventually. While it was a massive, life changing event, he knew Wade was far better suited for life as a demon. Wade was a sinful creature if he’d ever seen one. He was built to be a being of the dark. The savage way he took Peter was all the proof he needed. Wade needed time, but Peter hoped Wade would settle into his new role sooner rather than later. It had been a lonely journey to damnation and Peter was plenty ready to have a companion to keep by his side.

Wade needed training to become a proper demon. Peter could teach his techniques, but Wade might not want to use that style. Peter specialized in luring humans with his body. He was let into people’s homes to heal them of their ailments, but he was also there to seduce bored housewives, repressed husbands, and frustrated virgins. He forced people to confront the joys of indulging their instincts or made them into hypocrites. Both outcomes were interesting, though he didn’t stick around for very long to see it most of the time. Regardless of the result, it tarnished their relationship with God, and that’s what he was going for. He had done that for so long, but he was excited to do it now with Wade watching. He wanted to show off to Wade that he was a fearsome, powerful creature.

Wade didn’t have to use Peter’s tactics if he didn’t want to. He could incite violence, if that was more palatable. Nothing major, just a little brawl in the bar or a movie theater riot. He could whisper in a teenager’s ears that it wouldn’t be so bad if they took the neighbor’s car for a joy ride. He could urge an employer into stiffing his employees because those workers weren’t doing enough to earn their wages. There were many opportunities in a day to encourage sin that didn’t require Peter’s skillset.

Peter could give Wade tools to learn the skills needed to be a demon, but Wade would start to feel the pull soon. Since Peter’s transformation, he’d noticed the changes, aside from the physical. He felt seeds of mischief pull at him, though he could resist them if they weren’t suitable. As he drove past another car, he felt a niggling that he should crash into their car to really ruin their day. Not destroy the car, just scrape some of the paint and maybe nudge them off the road. However, if he entertained every desire like that, he wouldn’t have a car by the time they arrived in Montana. It wasn’t a compulsion; it was a suggestion that would fill him with delight to satisfy.

It didn’t take long for Wade to react to the changes. On day two, they arrived to a Kentucky motel. Peter was tired of driving and wanted to ask for business. He had enough savings to buy the gas, food, and motels all the way up to Montana, but he wanted a buffer in case something happened. 

Peter and Wade went in to get the room together. “I have a room with two beds on the east wing, if that works for you gentlemen,” offered the front desk lady, looking at her available keys. “I’m afraid there isn’t much of a view from that room there, though.” She looked politely apologetic.

Wade bent down to put his elbow on the counter and leered, “If you come to the room, you’ll be all the view we need.” It took a moment for Wade to realize what he had said, and he blushed. He stood up straight, and stiffly turned to leave. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’m going to go.”

While it wasn’t a horrible line, it wasn’t one that Peter would use. The lady behind the desk was not transmitting any sort of desire. She appeared to be a satisfied young lady. Seduction might work on her, but it would take much more effort than a rusty flirtation. Peter quickly apologized, “I’m sorry about my brother. His girl left him at the altar, and he’s taking it really hard.” That was the story they agreed to use. It was awkward to think of his companion as a sibling, but it was hard to explain why two unmarried men would travel together otherwise. Though, Peter wouldn’t object if Wade wanted to be his big brother, showing him the ropes in the bedroom. 

Her shock wore off and she laughed it off. “That’s bound to make anyone act out of character. Would you still like the room?”

A short time later, Peter returned to the car. He opened the door to inform Wade of their acquisition, “She gave us a reduced rate on the room.” She had been sympathetic to Wade’s plight, despite his behavior. He hoped her kind gesture might reduce the sting of Wade’s little faux pas. “And gave us a swankier room. Look, the keys are brand new.” He tossed the keys into Wade’s lap.

Wade didn’t bother looking at them and just sank deeper into the seat. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was clumsy, sure, but it wasn’t that bad,” Peter offered, consolingly. 

“I don’t even like women! Why would I say those things?”

Peter made a note that Wade was likely homosexual. Peter might need to stay away from seducing women, as not to make Wade uncomfortable. “It’s the lure. You want to cause humans to sin.”

“Can someone tell this lure thing that I’m not going to get anyone to sin by fluttering my eyelashes and embarrassing myself with bad come ons?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You just need a little work, that’s all.” 

“I think you forget that I’m horrifically scarred over most of my body.” Wade scratched the back of his head and dead skin flaked off. 

Peter had forgotten. Searching through Wade’s memories, he saw countless expressions of disgust, pity, and horror. He sighed. Humans had such limited views of what was beautiful. Peter did not consider appearances much at all. He found histories infinitely more interesting than whatever temporary shell covered the soul. Wade’s past gave him far more texture than his skin could. He could not, in good conscience, encourage Wade to pursue seduction as a lure. Wade was so new and fragile that he wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of rejection. “That may be. You’ll learn how to control your instincts. Just give it time.”

“Useless fucking demon.” Peter was almost offended, but he realized Wade was addressing himself. Wade placed his interlocked fingers over his eyes. “Demons are supposed to be temptingly beautiful. Why couldn’t I get the pretty demon treatment when I turned?”

Peter shrugged. He knew Wade wasn’t looking at him, but he didn’t know what else to tell him. Wade was giving off hot waves of frustration and a grief that had lingered since he transformed. Peter had told Wade everything he knew about the current situation, which admittedly wasn’t much. He didn’t even know how they were getting into Hell when Wade was ready. He just felt this sense that all would be sorted in due time by forces outside of their control. 

For now, Peter couldn’t think of any way to provide comfort to Wade. He settled for, “Let’s bring the bags in, then we’ll get supper.”

****  
Wade’s next slip was a few days later. He spoke a bit more every day and loosened up significantly. Peter could see hints of the Wade that was there before the religiosity. This man was an actual person, as opposed to the jello figure at the pulpit. 

Even with this new progress, Wade was miserable. It was a bummer, and Peter decided they needed to do something to lighten the mood. They found the answer when the young lady with a strained ankle mentioned that she was supposed to go to the drive-in with her friends. He deemed her fine to go, asked for directions, and what was playing tonight. 

Peter didn’t have much interest in movies, but he’d been to a few drive-ins. It was a fine place to get frisky in the back seat. He somewhat hoped this would be the case with Wade, as it had been almost a week since he’d had action and he was starting to feel like a virgin again. Not even a little french love to get him through the long days of either driving or seeing patients. It didn’t feel right while the situation was so tense with Wade. The guy needed to loosen up.

Much to Peter’s dismay, Wade stayed firmly on his side of the car. Their hands did accidentally meet in the popcorn a few times, but the brief embers of desire Peter felt off Wade fizzled out quickly. Those flecks were smothered by shame and annoyance. The shame was normal, like a lingering tang on the tongue, but the annoyance was new. Peter was so focused on the compelling story of a woman and her wasp husband on the screen, and how Wade was feeling, that he hadn’t paid any attention to the world around them. 

That’s why he was completely unprepared for Wade’s annoyance to spill over into rage as Wade ran out of the car, slamming the door with such force that it shook the frame. He stomped to where three guys were sitting on the hood of the neighboring Chevrolet, drinking beers and drinking cola. A quick reach out with his senses and Peter could tell that these were college age kids, freshly grown out of their high school letterman jackets. They were young, dumb, and could be tempted into doing a great many things with the right incentives. At least one of them could have joined Peter in the back seat, if Peter asked the right way. 

It happened so fast that Peter could barely process it. Wade punched the first guy. First guy was stunned and slid down the hood onto the tire-torn grass. Second and third guy moved to defend their buddy. Wade somehow positioned himself to slam the second and third guy’s heads together. With all three at a disadvantage, Wade delivered a brutal series of punches and kicks. It was too dark to see how bad Wade had hurt them, or if he had drawn blood, but Peter wouldn’t be surprised if they were bleeding like stuck pigs, especially with head injuries Wade was likely significantly stronger than a human and probably wasn’t accounting for that in his assault. If Wade was as strong as Peter was, or even half as much, he’d easily be able to put all three in the hospital with minimal effort.

Peter had to admit, Wade was quite handsome when he was brutalizing the men, but it had gone too far. Peter had another appointment the day after next in this town, and it was a fairly well-to-do patient. That patient could easily let them drive for two days without needing to take on other jobs. He couldn’t have Wade getting them run out because of a random fight at the drive-in. 

He shot out of the car and called, “Wade!” but that did not slow or stop his attack. 

Realizing Wade was too far gone to reach with words, he ran off and hauled Wade off the barely moving trio. Wade struggled and fought, but Peter was still stronger than him. Peter shoved him into the car and didn’t lessen the grip on his arm until he stopped thrashing. Peter found it cute, to some extent. It was like a puppy on a rampage, chewing up a pair of shoes. It was real damage, but it lacked direction. It felt like Wade had a disproportionate amount of rage that he had not reeled in. 

When Wade was under control again, Peter slammed Wade’s door and got in. They peeled out of the drive-in before anyone could get the cops. He made a note that Wade should lay low, as he had a distinctive appearance. Though, the boys were in bad shape and were unlikely to remember most of the event. 

After a few minutes of silence, Peter decided they needed to address Wade’s outburst. “What did they do?”

Wade was clenching and unclenching his blood encrusted fists. “Why do you think they did anything? Maybe I’m just acting like the demon I am and beat them up because I felt like it.”

“If you were acting on demon instincts, you made a piss poor go at it, if I’m honest.”

Wade looked shocked that Peter was being this direct. Peter had thus far attempted to be comforting and gentle with his insights.

Peter had reached a limit, of sorts. The incident with the motel receptionist was awkward, but an acceptable growing pain. This could put their plans and comfort in jeopardy, and Wade needed to be reprimanded accordingly. “You didn’t tempt them in any way. You didn’t provoke them into a fight. They didn’t have the opportunity to act wrathful or anything. All you did was beat them to a pulp.” Peter didn’t raise his voice, but he was stern. 

Wade shrunk at that, his indignation withered. “Oh.”

“If you want to fight, we can work on creating scenarios where you can fight. I know you were just throwing a tantrum tonight. What was it about?”

Wade mumbled, and Peter couldn’t make out what he said.

“What was that?”

“They were whistling.”

Peter couldn’t help himself; he rolled his eyes. “That was what got you? They were whistling?”

“One of them was singing the same four notes of a song. Over. And Over. And over again.” Wade was not convincing anyone, including himself, that he was justified. He seemed to recognize how irrational he was, but didn’t want to accept that he had royally messed up. 

Peter was annoyed, but he still understood. His skin wasn’t fitting right since the transformation. He was constantly achy and sore, right down to his bones. They were both adjusting, and Wade’s tolerance for annoyance was low. Wade also had a violent past, seemingly at random at times. Perhaps a mix of being freed from his religious binds and the trauma of the change had set him on a hair trigger. Fledglings were such a challenge. The last fledgling he met didn’t manage to reintegrate himself with human society after his turn. That pesky pyromaniac disappeared after a few years in prison, probably stuck in Hell until he learned how to behave. Wade didn’t have the same energy that strange one had, but Peter needed to keep Wade on a tight leash. Based on the contrite look on Wade’s face, Peter’s words had worked as an appropriate bop on the snout. 

That night, when they arrived at the motel, they still weren’t talking to each other. Peter would have loved to motivate Wade to harness his aggression for shenanigans wherever they went and to tell him how to do it smartly. It was, of course, not the right time for such a thing. Wade had been a very good, repressed boy for so long. First we couldn’t control his lust, and now he couldn’t control his anger. Wade was chomping at the bit to be free to experience all of the pleasures he was denied, and he’d be able to enjoy them all after he made peace with his damnation.

Peter could still feel Wade’s adrenaline as he tucked himself into the motel room’s left side bed. It made him antsy and unable to settle in the way he wanted to. Knowing sleep wouldn’t come for a while yet, he retrieved a worn novel from his bag. He was half-tempted to grab the bible that was crammed into the dresser drawer between them for a little light reading, but he decided that Wade did not need any more prodding. Wade might find humor in that eventually, but tonight he might just end up punching Peter. And not in a fun way.

Peter settled into the book. A patient had said good things about it and given him their copy. He wasn’t very deep into it and wasn’t convinced that wizards and prodigal heroes were his thing. That being said, it was an acceptable way to keep him entertained after Wade had cut their movie short. It would give Wade plenty of time to sulk in his bed. 

The room was silent, aside from Wade’s huffing sighs and the intermittent page turn. Wade laid on his back, arms crossed, staring at the cottage cheese ceiling. Peter would glance over and wonder if Wade was making constellations out of the ceiling's texture. Or maybe Wade was trying to start a fire from the heat of his stare. 

Over the course of an hour, Wade aggravation, anger, and shame calmed, and Peter began to sense hints of something else. It was so muddled by the other emotions that Peter couldn’t figure out what it was exactly, but it wasn’t negative. 

Peter was glad to have something almost nice over the bond. Wade wasn’t aware, but his misery was affecting Peter. Peter shared many of Wade’s emotions. He knew he wasn’t the one feeling Wade’s feelings, but it was like hearing constant radio reports in his ear. It wasn’t pleasant to be reminded every second of every day that his companion was miserable. Even though Peter was certain Wade would grow to like being a demon, it didn’t mean this valuable intermittent period wasn’t unpleasant for Peter, too. 

With Wade’s improving mood, Peter expected Wade to roll over and go to sleep. The ceiling wasn’t that interesting. Instead of sleeping, Wade’s posture remained the same, and Peter received a sensation of pain from Wade. Wade was hurting himself in some minor way. With a discreet glance, Peter noticed how Wade was digging his nails into his arms. Interesting.

Peter placed the book on the bedside table and went into the bathroom. He sat on the toilet, crossed his legs, and waited. He figured that Wade might allow himself to feel whatever it was that Peter caught if left alone. Peter kept in mind he couldn’t stay for more than a few minutes, lest he make Wade suspicious.

He tapped his toe on the tile while he waited for something to happen. He was about to get up when the whiff of an emotion ruptured into a wave of lust. It threatened to take Peter with it, but he swallowed his desire. Wade needed his help and, unfortunately for Peter, it wasn’t in a way that would lead to mutual gratification.

Peter opened the door and felt the heat radiating off Wade as soon as he entered the room. Wade had it bad. He was flushed and writhing in the soaking sheets. As much at Peter would like to join Wade and lose themselves in heat, that would damage their partnership. Peter often used sex as the question and answer to most things in his life, but he couldn’t use his greatest asset right now. He didn’t know how to coach Wade out of this. 

“Wade, hey, you need to calm down.” Peter moved to give comfort to Wade, but decided distance was more valuable. He hoped a gentle tone might reach Wade. “You’ll be fine.”

“What are you waiting for? Won’t you warm my bed?” Peter noticed that Wade was beginning to transform. His nails weren’t that long before and they were ripping gashes into the sheets. “Or did you only seduce me to get your precious damnation.”

“I don’t want you to hate me more than you already do.” Peter knew that was manipulative. Wade didn’t hate Peter, he mostly hated himself. But Peter wouldn’t hesitate to put himself in a pitiful light to gain Wade’s favor. “It’s just heat. Heat is manageable. You have to disengage from it.” Peter realized that was vague, but didn’t know how to describe coming voluntarily in and out of heat. It was like trying to instruct someone how to breathe. 

“I thought you were lying about the heat thing,” Wade whined. “I don’t know why I’m like this. My knuckles felt itchy, and I licked the blood off to stop the itch, and now I’m hot all over. Make it stop, please.”

It never would have occurred to Peter that their positions would be switched like this. Nor would he have thought that Wade would lose himself to lust from the taste of dried blood. While Peter didn’t understand it, he appreciated that Wade’s zest for violence may be rooted in sexuality as well. He set that train of thought aside — along with the lovely thought of covering himself in blood so that Wade could lick it off.

Peter felt his mind run sluggishly, greedily eating up how Wade begged nicely and feverishly sought pleasure against the bedsprings. Wade was on his belly and had jammed the pillow down between his legs to thrust against. Peter didn’t mind simply watching. Wade had left Peter to suffer in his heat for the better part of a day, so Peter wasn’t exactly in a hurry. “You just need to relax.”

“Oh yeah, you try to relax when all you can think about is fucking your pretty, tight mouth.” Wade froze, horrified at his confession.

Peter couldn’t help the laugh. “It feels even better than it looks.”

Wade accidentally let out a humiliated whimper. The room’s temperature increased further. 

“It might help if you ejuaculate.” Peter was just guessing. He hadn’t fallen into heat when he hadn’t meant to, except for with Wade, and he didn’t have any tried and true techniques to help pull Wade up. A little spill on the sheets might offer the clarity Wade needed. “I can go back in the bathroom to give you privacy.”

“No! No, you can’t leave,” Wade pleaded. His breathiness, strained voice, his almost innocent sincerity, was just darling. 

Peter gauged whether that would be wise. If he could make Wade think that Peter was acting out of compassion and kindness, it would work well in his plans. He needed Wade to grow to like Peter and enjoy his company. Peter swiftly ran through a few approaches in his mind, compared them against Wade’s personality, and decided on the tactics that would best suit him. Peter almost felt guilty for knowing Wade’s entire history, knowing what he was feeling, and knowing how to use that knowledge for his own benefit. 

The first step was to offer another denial. “I won’t leave, I’ll be in the bathroom. You could call me if you needed me.”

Wade arched off the bed like he was possessed and whimpered, “I need you now, though.”

“I can’t. It’s the heat talking, that’s all.” Perfect. Now Wade would remember how hard Peter was working to protect Wade’s virtue. Now, the counter offer. “What if I talk you through it? You liked it when I talked about my mouth.”

Wade bit his lip so hard it bled. Peter blinked and Wade’s horns had returned, about half the size they were when Wade first transformed. They were crimson and as twisted as his skin. Peter cursed how attracted he was to Wade right now, as Wade’s human facade was falling away. He also cursed Wade’s complicated feelings about sexuality that kept Peter from hopping into bed. 

“You could imagine that you are rubbing against my leg. I’m so much warmer than the pillow, but I’m sure you are doing a great job warming it up.”

“I don’t want the pillow. I want you,” Wade pouted, quivering lip and all.

“You can’t have me until you ask with a clear mind. Just focus on my voice and think about how nice it would be if I was near you.”

“I’d ask you to rail me into next week.” Wade made more indignant sounds, like he couldn’t help the honesty. It was a battle between his dignity and his libido, and both sides were losing.

“And I would. You haven’t felt what your new body can do, have you? I think you’ll find it very accommodating.” One of Wade’s hands gripped tight onto the bed and further shred the linens. They were not getting the deposit back on this motel. They might need to stay another night in this town to justify the expense. “Your human body has been molded into a creature of sin. Don’t you want to try it out?”

Wade could not resist the suggestion and reached behind him, under his sleep pants. In a high pitch voice, nearly hysterical, he exclaimed, “I’m wet. Why am I wet?”

“Makes you easy. If someone wants you, you can bend over and give it up. Anytime, anywhere.” Peter had enough of standing by the bathroom. He was sure it would be safe if he sat on his bed. Wade was too far gone to throw himself at Peter, and he seemed plenty happy with Peter’s words.

Wade had a few fingers in him as he rutted against the pillow. “I can barely feel the stretch. I wouldn’t need a stitch of prep.” His face scrunched in horror and fascination as he pressed deeper.

“I bet you missed being filled up. I bet your fingers aren’t enough.” Wade was responding well so Peter decided he could push. “You’ll be able to harness your heat like a weapon. You don’t know how beautiful you are like this, all sin and sweat.” He hoped that Wade might think that was empowering. He wasn’t lying; he did think Wade was lovely. He was an irreparably twisted soul, and it was reflected both inside and out. 

“No one would want me,” Wade scoffed, hiding his sadness. “They haven’t since the attack.”

“I do.” Again, the truth, but he realized this was something else Wade needed. Wade had spent years separated from his fellow man by his disfigurement. Peter was glad to give him devoted companionship and acceptance. “I want you in ways I’ve never wanted anyone else.” The idea of intercourse with Wade was intriguing. He had already corrupted Wade, and there was nothing he’d get out of it other than pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Peter wanted to feel every divot on Wade’s mangled flesh against Peter’s mundane, smooth skin. “If you wanted, I’d fall into my own heat, and we’d ride it out together. For as long as you want. We could do everything you’ve missed in your celibacy and so much more,” he promised, wistfully. 

Wade had no more words. He froze and groaned into the mattress, ejauculating into the ragged sheets. Peter grimaced that Wade’s bed had been utterly ruined, but couldn’t blame Wade for it. He knew that desperation well enough and wouldn’t have had any concern for property damage. 

Peter smiled. His words had been enticing and he had no doubt that Wade would be thinking about them tomorrow. All Wade needed was a little friction and Peter’s filthy promises in seductive tones to spill. 

Unfortunately, the success was short lived. The air soured with notions of regret and guilt. Leave it to Wade to not enjoy the afterglow for more than two seconds. Peter was only able to hold back audible disappointment with his near boundless patience. He didn’t understand why something so wonderful as release held so many negative emotions. 

Sure, Wade had been indoctrinated with the idea that sex was bad, and sex with a man was even worse, and sex by yourself was still nothing to be proud about. However, those rules only applied to Wade when he was a priest. Wade wasn’t a priest now, so he was free to enjoy those things. He should be leaping into the opportunity to explore the depravity he’d rejected in the name of being a good, godly man. God decided he didn’t want Wade that should be enough. If anything, Wade should direct his anger at God, not himself or Peter. 

As neither spoke, Peter saw out of the corner of his eye how Wade’s demonic traits receded. It was a shame; Wade’s claws were so handsome. He wanted to feel them digging into his thighs again.

Peter was the first to speak after a few silent minutes. “That looks uncomfortable,” he said, referring to how Wade was laying on a wet spot. He sat on the bed and returned to his book, pointedly not looking at Wade. “If you shower, you can sleep with me.” It was a reasonable suggestion, and he definitely wanted a warm body in his bed. 

It took Wade a long time to reply. He turned to Peter and stared through him with dead eyes. “As much as I hate to, I might need to take you up on your offer.” 

After a few more minutes, as Peter felt Wade gathering his courage, he flipped over to pull up his pants. He shuffled into the bathroom and took a ridiculously long shower. 

Peter made sure to make room in the bed and pulled back the sheets on the side that Wade would sleep on to make it look inviting. He was near on the edge so that Wade could lay down without touching. Peter couldn’t look like he was pushing for anything to happen. He may have fixed his hair to look sex mussed, however, just to put the insinuation in Wade’s mind. 

He examined the bed that Wade ruined and wondered how much the damage might cost. The mattress’s stuffing was exposed in places, the sheets were wet, crumpled, and torn, and the pillow was unrecognizable. He assumed the deposit wouldn’t cover the cost of a new mattress and bedding. He planned to tell Wade the next day that they’d need to tack a few days onto their stay in this town.

Sadly, Wade came out of the bathroom redressed in his stained clothing. Peter would have preferred to see him only in a towel. Wade grabbed a clean set of sleep clothes, redressed in the bathroom, and slid in next to Peter. They each did their part to keep the valley between them as vast as possible. 

The next morning, Peter pretended to sleep after he woke up. Wade was cuddling up to him and snuggling into Peter’s chest. Wade was a fairly light sleeper, so he wouldn’t be able to extricate himself without disturbing Wade. It was best to let Wade wake on his own and think Peter didn’t know.

When Wade awoke, he rolled out of bed and shut himself in the bathroom. Peter could feel he was upset, but there was a sliver of fondness. That sliver, sandwiched between confusion and anxiety, was progress. Peter welcomed it and hoped it was progress.

****

Peter was testy that evening after he’d been shorted by one of his patients. He’d forgotten how good he’d been treated by the few small towns he’d been cycling through. He had forged relationships with those patients after treating their ailments, having dinner with their families, staying in their homes, and accompanying them to social events. He ingratiated himself in their community and became a reliable source of medical care. Usually, he was their only source of medical care and they wanted to treat him well.

This town was a little bit bigger than Peter’s usual hotspots. They had to keep to larger towns to guarantee they could find someplace to stay the night. Neither wanted to sleep in Peter’s Ford and Peter worried that most patients wouldn’t be able to accommodate both Peter and Wade. Unfortunately, this town had a resident doctor, so Peter had to undercut the resident doctor’s rates to steal his patients. On top of that, Peter had agreed to accept payment after services were rendered. Thus he was making less than he was worth, and it was far too easy to cheat Peter out of his cash. Peter could call the police about it, but they would probably side with the patient since Peter was a stranger. 

Before he left, he told the patient that his child had blue eyes, while the patient and his wife had brown eyes. He gave the briefest explanation of genetics to the stunned pair and slammed the door on the way out. As he returned to the car, he heard the accusatory screaming and something about the blue-eyed neighbor. Peter hadn’t been able to cause much chaos recently, and it brought a smile to his face for the briefest moments. The burst of pleasure in his chest from fulfilling his purpose was intoxicating, though frustratingly brief. 

That was temporary, though. Once he was alone again, he was reminded that there was a space beside him where Wade wasn’t. Wade, apparently feeling bad about making Peter clean his messes, had asked to be taken to a residential street before Peter went to work. He wanted to go door to door to see if he could earn a few coins. Feeling Wade so far away made Peter’s chest tight. It was lonely to be filled with only his own feelings.

After his last patient of the day, he sat in his car to count his cash. Between the fee for the motel and the food they’d get tonight, he had one sixth the amount he needed for the damage fees. The well-to-do client could cover a decent chunk, but they’d be stuck in this town for three or four more days at this rate. Peter had some concerns that he’d run out of clients in that time. He missed just worrying about himself, finding housing and food for one instead of two, and was not loving this budgeting situation, but it was worth it to have Wade. Even if Wade was not the most pleasant of companions. 

Peter had to drive around for half an hour to find Wade. The residential areas were spread out, but thankfully the tall, well built, heavily scarred man mowing a lawn was easy to identify. He was a pleasant sight, sweating through his button-up that clung to his muscles. 

Wade noticed Peter, gave a short wave, and returned to his work. Peter sat back against his seat, feeling the tension fall from his shoulders. Wade’s presence filled Peter’s mind once again and flooded Peter’s chest with warm sentimentality. He could feel Wade’s aching exhaustion, how Wade’s feet were throbbing, how Wade’s skin was sticky with sweat. Peter would gladly lick it off.

Wade finished his work eventually and jumped into the car. He practically melted into the seat and complained hoarsely, “I’ve decided this is my punishment. This is my hell on earth. Manual labor forever. And ever. And ever.” 

“I didn’t tell you to do it. This is your self-imposed hell.”

“Sounds about right. I need to pull my own weight. Can’t be a housewife, now can I? I don’t have the breasts for it,” Wade joked and mimed having a well-endowed chest. That was as much levity as he had left in him and his smile dropped. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Not a single person offered me lemonade. Or water. Do you have a canteen somewhere in here?”

Peter reached into the back seat to grab his bottle. He hadn’t refilled it, but he rattled it and felt a few sips swishing around. “There’s not much.”

Wade took it and downed the water. He shook out the last drops onto his tongue and groaned. “That’s good. We are getting supper, right? I need like four glasses of water with plenty of ice.” Wade appeared to remember something and dug into his pocket. He pulled out a bill and a handful of coins. “I haven’t had a chance to count it, but I think I brought in $4.50.”

Peter nodded approvingly and praised Wade for his hard work. That could easily pay for dinner for the two of them and have a good amount left over. It was an inch into getting them out of this town.

****  
They had dinner at the greasy diner. They were starving, since it was the only food they’d had all day, aside from the dry bread scarfed down first thing that morning. That worked fine for Peter, but they might need to shop for lunches for Wade if he was going to be doing physical labor during the day. As usual, they spoke little and focused on scraping every last crumb off their plates.

It was otherwise an unremarkable meal, except for how Wade pocketed the change after the waitress turned her back. Peter noted that Wade didn’t leave a tip, but he didn’t comment. It was Wade’s money; he could do with it what he pleased.

As they left, Wade made a note to remark to the waitress, “Oh hey, the bus boy said I could leave your tip with him. I hope you don’t mind.” He got up close to whisper, “Those teenagers were eyeing the table, and I didn’t want them making off with it.”

She thanked them, and they left. 

Peter’s insides bubbled with pride, and he only let the smallest smile escape. He could sense a human’s life story, if he decided to pay enough attention to them. The knowledge trickled in, more detailed the longer he lingered about the human. It only took a few sermons for Peter to learn everything about Wade that he needed to. Wade had sensed enough to know that the bus boy had sticky fingers and a dishonest streak, and the waitress was a hot head. They’d have the opportunity to work it out if they listened to each other, but Wade’s lie could lead to delicious conflict. The outcome was not necessarily important; what truly mattered was the opportunity for humans to make their mistakes. A demon’s purpose was only to facilitate such things when the humans don’t do it all on their own. 

Wade had lied so easily, smiled so genuinely while he cleanly seeded strife. He didn’t know if Wade even knew what happened, seeing as Wade was unsteady on his feet from exhaustion. It wasn’t much, but it didn’t need to be much. That little lie was a sign that Wade was finding his footing at a demon. It was sweet, like watching a child’s first steps. Wade was unlikely to embrace it, once he realized what he’d done, but Peter basked in the victory of this critical milestone. The inconveniences of the day didn’t bother him now. He had to maintain grumpy countenance, as not to alert Wade, and kept his little smirk to himself. Peter wanted nothing more than to jump on Wade and show how proud he was of his gorgeous little fledgling. 

They arrived back at the motel, and Wade collapsed onto his side on Peter’s bed. Wade’s mattress and bedding had been disposed of during the day, leaving a bare bed frame and forcing them to sleep together. 

Peter was feeling hopeful, so, after his evening shower, he wore his favorite blue striped pajamas. They weren’t inherently appealing, but the cut was very flattering, almost like a tailored garment. He settled into his side of the sheets to read. He subtly tilted his head to accentuate the long lines of his neck and held the book low so that his long lashes nearly rested on his cheeks. He let his mind drift into illicit territories to give his cheeks a gentle blush. It wasn’t anything obvious, but it showed Peter at his best angles and might entice Wade if he was ready to be enticed. 

Peter was surprised when Wade had a bit of reading. Wade had acquired a newspaper while he was one his own. Peter was glad. It meant that Wade was tired of spending his nights wallowing and wanted to do something with his free time. Unfortunately, it also meant that Wade’s eyes weren’t on Peter, which wasn’t ideal. 

With Wade’s tiredness and his newfound interest in the news, Peter expected that they would read for a while, turn off the lights, and go to sleep like a married couple whose passion had long died. Peter’s interest was raised when he didn’t observe Wade’s energy levels gradually declining. It was tinged with the delicious notes of desire.

Wade asked suddenly, his voice punctuating the gaping silence, “You’d be intimate with me just — ” He stumbled as he searched for the right words and pushed his face deeper into the newspaper. “For fun? Just because you want to?”

Wade wasn’t looking at him, so Peter didn’t hide the glee spreading across his face. “I can confidently say that any sort of bedroom behavior wouldn’t benefit me, aside from the pleasure. And I definitely want to, but only if you want to.” Peter thought a little extra honesty would serve him well here. Wade was vulnerable, and if Peter could match that vulnerability, it might benefit them both. “I still don’t know what this bond means. I think we are meant to be companions, and, if that’s the case, I don’t want my companion to hate me. I don’t generally want to be hated, but you are the being I’d like to be hated the least by. So if a roll in the sheets is going to make you hate me more than you already do, I’d politely abstain.”

“I told you I don’t hate you,” Wade mumbled. “After the incident, I found peace in religion. I wanted to be the best leader and serve my community. I felt helpful. It was so hard, and I thought I was doing so good. I struggled every day and for what? All of that is pointless.” He put down the newspaper. Peter could finally see Wade’s expression, and it was full of too much pain. “I threw it all away because I couldn’t resist you. There’s this space in my head where God used to be, and it reminds me that I am no longer given His unconditional love.” Wade sounded too tired to be angry. Maybe it was acceptance.

Peter debated whether he should reach out to Wade. While he wanted to comfort him, this was a fragile moment and it might not be wanted. “If it was unconditional, he would still be with you.”

Wade looked at his hands, completely unsurprised by Peter’s words. “I know.” It was probably something that had echoed in his mind on a daily basis.

“I don’t think it’ll help much, but I used to have him there too. I spent immeasurable amounts of time bowing before his majesty and hearing his words from inside me,” Peter spat. He didn’t mean to let that venom escape, but he didn’t have any positive memories about his time as an angel. It was mostly just feelings of delirious devotion. The idea of being a submissive servant disgusted him now. “There was no me back then. It was only once he was gone that I could find myself. It’s been very quiet since then, until a little fledgling made space for himself in my head.” Peter subconsciously rubbed at the seal on his leg.

“You can feel what I’m feeling, can’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought so. You said you felt me, and I didn’t know what that meant until I started feeling you. I liked when I made you proud.” Wade smiled, though it was still a little sad. “You are proud of me now.”

Another milestone. Wade’s perceptiveness had grown so much in such a short time. Wade was correct, Peter was incredibly proud. “I am.”

“It’s nice. It feels like vanilla.” Wade’s smile dropped. “You felt a lot. It’s unfair that you’ve been feeling all the shit I’ve been going through.”

Peter couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to hold Wade’s hand. They readily entwined their fingers like nesting serpents. “I can’t blame you for being scared and angry and bitter. That was a massive change that you never could have anticipated.”

“Yeah, well, I’m tired of all that. I don’t want to be ashamed anymore.” Peter noticed how Wade’s horns sprouted from his forehead. It was just the briefest of points poking out of his skin. “It’s too much work to be angry about something I cannot change and mourn the future I could have had.” Wade laughed dryly. “Not that it was much of a future. Just listening to ladies confess that they were jealous of their neighbor’s marigolds or that they borrowed their neighbors mower or whatever inane shit people felt guilty about. I fucking hate marigolds, Peter, I really do. Then I’d be stuck constantly repairing the church that was falling apart around me. Trying desperately not to be utterly alone.” Wade sounded resigned and sighed.

Peter moved an inch or so closer and placed his other hand on Wade’s thigh. “I will do whatever I can to make certain you are never alone again.”

Wade held Peter’s gaze, then brought their hands to his face. “I know. I can feel that.” He gently nuzzled the back of Peter’s hand. Peter’s chest filled with warmth at the affection. “I’m ready to learn how to be a demon. I’m not going to fight this anymore.”

Peter hadn’t expected Wade to accept his new situation all at once, and it was exactly what he wanted to hear. It felt too good to be true, but Wade was completely genuine. “I’m really happy to hear that, Wade.” Peter wanted to show Wade how happy he was, but this was not the time to appease his sexual desires. This was an important moment in Wade’s transformation, more than the claws and horns could ever be. 

Reviewing Wade’s memories, this actually aligned with Wade’s pattern of behavior. He was an all-in kind of guy who adjusted by throwing himself into his new situation. When Wade had found himself on the street and starving, he’d dedicated himself to being the best boy on the block. When Father Summers had found him, he’d worked tirelessly to change every part of himself. He could barely read and had a much steeper difficulty curve to catch up with the other students. Still, against the odds, he thrived and grew to be unrecognizable. And now, Wade had decided that he was ready to do what he needed to fit into this new role. He was built to survive in a world that had royally fucked him over at every turn. 

Wade shifted just a tiny bit closer to Peter. “I want to hold you. I’m too sore to do anything under the belt. Can I hold you while we sleep tonight?” he asked, like there was any chance Peter would refuse. 

Peter didn’t have much experience with non-sexual intimacy so, uncharacteristically, he blushed at the earnest request. Usually, intimacy ended with his partner deeply regretting their pairing and wanting nothing more to do with Peter. He wasn’t inclined to want continued contact after he’d done what he’d come to do. It was novel to have physical affection without the promise of something more. It had been nice to receive a little while Wade was sleeping, but intentional cuddling felt like uncharted territory. “Yes, that sounds nice.”

They both set their respective readings to their bedside tables, turned out the lights, and shifted closer to the center of the bed. Wade laid on his back and opened a spot for Peter between his outstretched arms. Peter picked a nice place on Wade’s chest to rest his head on. He counted Wade’s pulse under his ear and felt as Wade’s breath pushed him up and down. Peter brought his hand to Wade’s seal and traced the contours through the flannel pajamas. Wade’s hand brushed across Peter’s forehead to graze his small horns. 

They fell asleep, lightly stroking each other to assure themselves that they were there for each other. 

****

The next day, Peter didn’t want to be away from Wade, but Wade insisted. He argued that it was his fault that their progress to Montana had faltered, and he needed to pay his way. Wade was probably bored waiting in the car while Peter worked, but Peter didn’t like how empty the passenger's seat was.

It was a more profitable day than he had expected, and after the momentous evening previous, Peter decided they should splurge on a nicer dinner. He asked the last client if they had any recommendations, and they suggested a nice italian place. Not too nice, just a pleasant family joint with straightforward food. The client was nice enough to call the owner, Frank, to let him know that the travelling doctor wanted a table at his restaurant. Peter could hear from across the room how excited the owner was to have a non-local.

Peter collected Wade and Wade discussed the odd jobs he’d taken on. He almost apologetically regaled Peter about the mischief he’d caused today because he insisted that it was minor. He’d been tasked with changing a lightbulb and pocketed a pair of the lady of the house's undergarments. Then, when he’d been tasked with moving some furniture at a house a few doors down, he’d slipped said underwear between the cushions of the couch. Wade described it with all the shy eagerness of a child who was offering up an art piece to a parent and desperately hoping for praise. 

During the drive, Peter asked questions and offered suggestions but was very pleased to see Wade taking initiative. 

Wade was so engaged in their conversation that he didn’t ask where they were going. His eyes grew huge when they pulled up to the neon-lit facade. “This joint’s lookin’ a little nicer than usual, Pete.”

Wade hadn’t called him anything other than Peter previously, and he liked the new nickname. He hoped to hear it again. “We are celebrating a new beginning. I have it on good authority that Frank will treat us well.”

Wade looked like he wanted to reach out to Peter, but he refrained. “I haven’t been to an italian restaurant in ages. That must have been with Father Summers, before I moved to Dentin.” Wade looked down and fidgeted with his pants. “I forgot about Summers. He was the only friend I really had as a human. He’d be really disappointed that this is what became of me.”

Peter sorted through Wade’s life story in his mind to focus on the absurdly muscular priest. Why was a priest at the tail end of middle age built like that? Father Summers had a face that held too many burdens, just like Wade. Peter wanted to spend a few minutes near the man to figure out what kind of life that man lived to look like that. It had to be one hell of a story. 

Peter was grateful that Nathan Summers had been there to rescue Peter’s companion from the depths of misery. Still, a priest would not be thrilled to learn that the man he’d given a second chance to had fallen to sin. Peter understood Wade was struggling with that thought. “He doesn’t need to know about this. No human should know what you are.”

“He’s going to know something happened the next time he comes to Dentin.”

“You can write him a letter. You can come up with an excuse.”

“I don’t think there’s a good reason to abandon a church.” Wade rested his head against the dashboard but lifted it again after a moment. “That’s a problem to face later. We are going to have italian, and it’s going to be lovely.”

Peter could tell Wade was faking the chipperness but didn’t remark on it. “I think we even have enough to get dessert. This place looks like they’d have cannolis.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a cannoli before.”

“If they have them, that’s something you’ll need to try.” Peter noted how canollis had a phallic shape and might be a nice way to tease Wade before they returned to their motel. Peter was liking his chances for tonight, though he was self-conscious about getting heated. Now that Wade could sense Peter like Peter could sense Wade, Wade would feel how often Peter’s mind drifted to bedroom activities. Peter couldn’t help it. He relished being a creature of pleasure and he had a handsome man who could treat him right. 

They went into the restaurant, and it was about what Peter expected: red checkerboard tablecloths, bright red brick arches, a decorative wall of wines, an elderly gentleman playing an accordion in the corner. The live accordion was a nice touch, though he thought that the man playing it was well past his bedtime. He’d pause every minute or so to take a drag from his cigarette, then return to his song. There were maybe a dozen tables and over half of them were full. Peter took it as a good sign that they were in a quality place, considering it was still somewhat early on a weekday. 

A tall man with a round belly greeted them with a booming voice. “Gus said you were coming. I’ve got the best seat in the house for the good doctor!” He seemed uncomfortable when he took in Wade’s appearance. “And his, uh, brother.” 

While Peter didn’t like the man’s reaction to Wade, he thought he might get something out of it if he played nice. Wade didn’t even flinch, so used to being looked at that way. Peter plastered on his work smile and shook the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure. You must be Frank.”

“The one and only!” He took them to their seats. It was near the kitchen but away from the door. There was a modicum of privacy and a fresh pack of cigarettes on the table. Peter didn’t habitually partake, but he wouldn’t turn down free smokes. Plus, it might make them stand out if they didn’t; every occupied table was billowing smoke. 

Frank set up with their menus and, much to Peter’s relief, went off to tend to other affairs. Peter thought Frank would be the type to be a chatterbox, but Peter was left to have a peaceful dinner with Wade. 

They steadily worked through the pack after Wade coughed for his first few drags. He’d abstained from all substances, legal and illegal, during his tenure as a man of the cloth so his lungs protested the reintroduction. 

Peter ate his ravioli, while Wade devoured his spaghetti. It wasn’t spectacular italian, but it was definitely nicer than the diner food they’d been living on. They kept the conversation to dinner appropriate topics and rubbed their feet together.

Towards the end of the meal, Wade grew obviously distracted. He was tapping into something from the humans around them that Peter was missing. Peter was purposefully trying not to be perceptive to stay in the moment and away from the humans. Wade didn’t finish some of his sentences and he had a contemplative crease in his forehead. Finally, he commented on it after pulling Peter across the table to whisper in his ear, “The man near the wine shelf wants you so bad.”

Peter felt the sensation of someone watching it but had disregarded it. “Yes. I’m aware I’m desirable to some humans.”

“You should seduce him.”

“What?” Peter extended his perception in a larger radius to include the man Wade was referring to. His life involved looking at a lot of men then shamefully averting his gaze. The men that caught his eye looked a lot like Peter, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he was emanating enough lust that Wade felt it. The man was married, but he was having dinner with a few male friends. 

“That’s what you are supposed to do, right? Seduce humans. You don’t have to, but I’m giving you permission to do it if you want.”

“Are you serious?” Peter quickly ran through a scenario that would separate the man from his friends. It might be tricky, some level of failure was possible, but he felt good about his odds. That man was wound up tighter than a rotisserie chicken.

“Very. Just come back in time for dessert. I want that tiramisu,” Wade replied flippantly. 

Peter was hesitant. Weren’t humans usually possessive about things they cared about? This willingness to send Peter off on an escapade made him wonder what Wade felt for him. “Won’t that be, I don’t know, uncomfortable for you?”

Wade shrugged and took a bite of his meal. “I don’t think so. I like the idea of you going off like that. I like the idea that it’s partially because of me.” Wade paused, like he was trying to find words for his complicated feelings. “I’m trying to follow my instincts, and this feels good. Facilitating it makes me feel involved. I’m not trying to force you, but I’m supportive of how you want to handle this opportunity.”

Peter recognized that, yes, he would like to seduce the man. Dinner and adultery were a perfect pairing, just like steak and red wine, and it would increase his enjoyment of the evening. If it made Wade happy too, he had little reason to resist. This felt like something they could share, like some sort of bonding experience. “If you are sure.” Peter slid half out of his chair, just to give Wade a chance to stop him.

Wade patted Peter’s arm towards the ill fated human. “Yes. Go, have fun.” 

Peter radiated pride. Wade was doing so well. He let himself feel it fully until he needed to get into character. He took a deep breath, let his lips dive into a scowl, and pinched his eyebrows. He jumped out of his chair and stormed over to the man in question. Peter pulled him out of the chair by the front of his shirt and pressed close to his face, snarling, “Do we have a problem? Because you’ve been staring at me and I feel like we have a problem.” The restaurant was silent.

Frank appeared from the kitchen and rushed towards the commotion. “Doctor Parker! What’s this about?”

The man in his grasp was shaking, too terrified to speak up for himself. Peter let him go, and he stumbled to stand on his own. Peter had thought there might be some inference by bystanders, but he had hoped that he could shock everyone out of trying to be helpful. “We need to have a little private chat.”

Frank crossed his arms but kept some physical distance from the conflict. “You don’t need to take John anywhere.”

Peter stared deeply into John’s eyes, full of promise and temptation not given away by the rest of his posture and reasoned, “We just need a little man to man talk, isn’t that right, Johh?” Peter all but purred. He had to resist licking his lips to drive the point home. That would have been too obvious to the audience.

“Doctor Parker,” Frank commanded. “I’m going to have to ask you to leav — ”

“No, Big Frankie,” John spoke up. The nickname brought some relief to the tension. “I’ll go. We can hash this out like men.”

Peter felt Wade’s amusement at how easily Peter could get what he wanted. Peter patted John’s shoulder, somewhat condescendingly. “This shouldn’t take long.”

John gulped, and his sweat welled at his temples. “Right. I’ll be right back.” He addressed the other dinners. “Sorry for the racket. I’ll be back soon.”

Peter took his new friend out of the restaurant and led him to the side. It was well away from the front door and out of sight of the street. There would be no reason for someone to follow a stranger away from their friends if they weren’t expecting something. Peter idly thought that John should have a good excuse about all this afterwards to give to his friends and Frank, but that wasn’t his business. 

He shoved John against the wall and got close enough to share his air. “John, John, John. My brother said you were making eyes at me. Why would a good married man like yourself be looking at the likes of me?” Peter tapped John’s wedding band, just for emphasis. It was a reminder of what John was compromising if he gave into Peter’s wiles. 

“I thought you were my cousin — ” John’s words sounded outrageously fake and they petered off. An owl coo filled the space where the rest of the lie should have gone.

Peter dipped his voice low and lightly pressed his chest to John’s to let him feel the rumble. “Don’t be a liar, John. I don’t think we need any of that.”

John made some defensive noises, but he seemed to be lost in Peter’s eyes. 

“So why’d you follow me? What did you hope to gain by leaving the safety of your friends and coming with me?”

More meaningless noises.

Peter would have preferred an open confession, but he didn’t have much time. He couldn’t miss Wade enjoying his dessert, “I think you’re a queer. You saw me walk in and couldn’t stop thinking about what my lips feel like around your prick. Isn’t that right?” He took a step forward to align their hips. As he suspected, John was ready to play where it mattered, even though his mouth was uncooperative. Luckily, Peter’s mouth was perfectly able to handle the load. “Tell me you want me on my knees.” This side of the restaurant was grassy, which would be kinder on his joints. It wasn’t damp, so he thought that his clothing would likely fare well. Muddy pants were incriminating and not easy to excuse. 

John didn’t answer, but Peter was patient. He brought his hands away from where they were caging John and stroked them down John’s side and legs. 

“I don’t have all day. They might get suspicious and send someone out. You wouldn’t want anyone to see you like this, would you?”

“N-no.”

“You know the magic words,” Peter reminded in a sing-song way. “Come on, let me hear you.”

“I’d like you to get on your knees to. Service me. Please.”

Peter smiled. This would take five minutes, at most. He had no intention of letting this take any more time than needed. “So polite,” Peter teased as he slid to his knees. It felt amazing to be in one of his favorite positions. It was practically his natural state. It made it better that Wade could feel his satisfaction while Wade was enjoying his meal. 

Peter opened John’s pants, eased them down with the underwear, and watched his dick bounce out. Quick and dirty was the name of the game, though not too dirty because he needed to be presentable after this. He opened his mouth wide and took it deep, being mindful of his drool. 

John wasn’t very involved in the whole thing. He had one hand muffling his moans and the other gripping Peter’s shoulder. He was too dang respectable to take hold of Peter’s head and plunder the demon’s throat like he deserved. A shame, but not unexpected. 

Three minutes in, John’s prick pulsed, and he shot into Peter’s throat. Peter made sure to sit still and swallow it all down before rising. John was barely standing, slumped against the wall, and panting like mad. He was crying, too, and Peter didn’t know whether it was from pleasure, despair, or some combination of the two. John probably didn’t know what madness overtook him to lead him to accept a blowjob from a stranger outside a restaurant. It was just lust and, damn, was lust a hell of a drug. 

Peter almost offered his handkerchief but decided he liked this handkerchief too much. He dabbed the tears that welled at the corners of his eyes and wiped the spit off his mouth. He used his fingers to feel as the heat drained away from his face. Once the flush had left his cheeks, he turned to leave. “Don’t take too long, sweetie. We don’t want anyone to think I did anything too bad to you.”

He couldn’t help reentering the restaurant with a swagger in his step. Everyone looked at him, so he cooly informed them, “He thought I was someone else. We got it sorted out.” The atmosphere was still tense, probably because John wasn’t there to corroborate Peter’s story. 

Peter sauntered over to the table and took his place next to Wade, who still had a bite on his plate. Peter was pleased that he had kept to his timeline. 

Wade swirled his last bite. “I ordered while you were gone. I’m glad you came to an understanding.” 

Peter wanted to interrogate Wade about what he thought of this. Wade was calm, his mind was easy and unbothered, with an undercurrent of satisfaction. Peter wanted to know how Wade felt, sitting across from him, knowing he’d wrung an orgasm out of a random human not fifty feet away. It wasn’t enough to know that Wade didn’t have negative feelings about it. He needed to know how this was going to impact their relationship going forward. It was scary. He knew Wade so well when he was miserable and self loathing. This new, accepting Wade was intimidating. 

Wade interrupted Peter’s ponderings, “I can hear you worrying. Knock it off.”

Peter was momentarily incensed that Wade was telling him what to feel, but this was a conversation for later. He drained the rest of his glass to get the taste of semen out of his mouth. He didn’t mind the taste, it just didn’t pair well with his ravioli. 

Wade dropped his voice low, barely vibrating in his chest, “It’s more than fine. I liked it.”

That was relieving and allowed Peter to settle. 

John came in a minute or so later, and it seemed like the entire restaurant let out a sigh of relief. He had a haunted look in his eyes but had otherwise managed to pull himself together. He shakily joined his friends and pointedly did not look at Peter again. Peter thought it was likely that a woman would never satisfy him after sampling the forbidden fruit. That knowledge filled Peter with satisfied shivers and left him euphoric. 

****

As soon as they entered the motel room, Wade slammed Peter against the door and licked into Peter’s mouth. He tasted sugary with hints of coffee. Peter was shocked, but he got up to speed quickly as his mind was flooded with Wade’s arousal.

Peter pulled back and asked, “What’s this about?”

“You played him like a fiddle. I was watching the clock, and you weren’t even gone five minutes, coming back all smug.” Wade nipped at Peter’s throat and ground his hips against Peter’s. “Competency is appealing.”

“I’m not complaining, but this is fast.”

“I’m fast. Always have been, just pretended I wasn’t.” He ran his nails through Peter’s hair and, oh, that was nice. Peter moaned as he was covered in gooseflesh. “I told you I was tired of hurtin’ and denyin’ myself. What I want right now is you.”

“Are you sure?” 

Wade slouched his shoulder and looked up through his lashes. It was theatrical, contrasting strongly with the surety and sexuality he was oozing. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know I’m not as pretty as your other paramours.”

Paramours was an overestimate of what he was to the people Peter engaged with, but he understood the intention. Wade was guilting him in an incredibly salacious way instead of asking directly. It was a stark contrast to Wade’s previous insecurities; there was no sign of that here. He had no choice but to defend against Wade’s manipulation. Maybe that’s what Wade wanted. “No. I want you more than any human.”

“Oh, and then when we get to hell, you’ll want to play with the demon’s with bigger horns.”

“It’s not about size.” Peter glanced up, and Wade’s sharp, meandering horns were at full mast. Peter had not seen those roughly hewn shapes since they turned, and they made his heart beat faster. “Your horns are plenty big,” he breathed.

“Is that right? Are you sure I can satisfy you with my ‘plenty big horns’?”

Wade was weaponizing Peter’s sexuality. It wasn’t to shame Peter, it was too joking to be hurtful, it was just to position him how Wade wanted. Peter was right; Wade was meant for damnation, but he wished it wasn’t directed at him. He was tired of talking and wanted to desecrate the unsullied bed.

Peter whined, “You know how much I want you. I know how much you want me.” It was hard to tell whose arousal belonged to who. Their feelings ricocheted between them, heightening their sensitivities. He wasn’t even in heat, and he might burst into flames if he allowed himself to fall. “What else do you want from me?”

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened with Mr. John. Don’t skimp on the details.”

Peter thought he had Wade under his thumb, but Wade had stripped his power, and he felt like he was trying to catch up. Wade had patched up the holes in his walls and left Peter without a grip. “I’m not usually one to kiss and tell.”

“I want to know. Don’t you want to make me happy?” Wade nibbled on his neck. Peter didn’t have the willpower to tell him not to leave marks. Humans had never managed to mark him, but Wade probably could. Peter was supposed to be a respectable doctor, not an amorous teen. 

“It would make you happy to hear about bringing pleasure to some human? Why?” Peter tried to touch Wade, but his hands were held back. It wasn’t hard, just enough to keep Pete off. There was some indignation from Peter. He was stronger than Wade and could throw Wade across the room. He also really liked it.

“There’s something about them, desperate for your attention, falling for your charms, succumbing to an illicit rendezvous to get a taste of you.” His breath was hot against Peter’s ear. “Why don’t we do it this way: you tell me what you did, and I’ll do it to you? I think that’s fair.”

Peter thought all of this was highly unfair. Wade, under his pious guilt and beyond the influence of dangerous human chemicals, was a beautiful figure. Truly devastating. Peter was weak for it and complied to Wade’s suggestion. “I pinned his arms. I wanted to make my intentions very obvious.”

Wade dragged a compliant Peter across the room to the bathroom door and pinioned his wrists. “Like this?”

“I held them up a little higher.” Wade adjusted the hold . “Yeah, like that.” Peter moaned as Wade put strength into his grip.

“And then?”

“I got on my knees and made him tell me that he wanted my mouth.” Peter realized he messed up. He could have skipped that step and gone straight to the good part. 

Wade lowered gracefully, far too composed for Peter’s liking. He looked up almost innocently, all his sharp angles dulled by the submissive pose, and rubbed his hands against Peter’s thighs. “So, do you want my mouth?”

“I definitely do.” Preferably yesterday.

“Then what happened?”

Peter whined, because it was obvious what happened next. He shouldn’t need to spell this all out. “I sucked him off.”

Wade tsked and dropped his hands to his lap, leaving Peter tragically unmolested. “I asked for details. You can’t skip on details and get right to the blowie. How did you get little John out of his trousers?”

“I just undid the button and let it down. I was quick about it, too.” Peter nodded to hopefully get Wade to act with some speed. 

Wade didn’t do that; he scratched his nails along Peter’s belt and down his thighs. “Was he a good size? Notable in any way?”

Peter couldn’t remember anything about John’s member aside from the fact that it didn’t strain his mouth or throat. “It was normal. I didn’t really pay attention.” It wasn’t lost on him that Wade was drawing this out well beyond the length of his encounter with John. He’d be much more conversational if he had a release to clear his mind. 

“Have you seen so many that they all blur together?”

“I guess?” Peter didn’t know what Wade wanted to hear. Wade was emanating smug satisfaction, so that gave no clues. 

That seemed to be a correct answer, as Wade undid Peter’s pants. He fiddled with the waistband of Peter’s underwear and stroked the skin underneath. The featherlike touches were maddening, and Peter threw his head against the door. “How many times do you get serviced like this?”

Peter had to think about that one. When was the last time someone had fallen to their knees for him? There had been some who wished to worship his body, which was always a pleasant surprise, but not common. “Annually? Give or take one or two? I take selfish lovers.”

“Do you like feeling cheap and used?”

That was a difficult question. Peter enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh, but many of his interactions were sexually unsatisfying. His partners usually did not care about his satisfaction during their frantic couplings. It wasn’t about Peter’s pleasure, anyway. The satisfaction of dragging someone into the dirt was a sweetness on the back of his tongue, a tickle in his chest, a giddy lightheadedness that drove him through his endless days. His stretched ass or sore throat were proof of his success, and the euphoria made him ignore his unfulfilled desires.

He doubted any of that answered Wade in the way he wanted, so he shelved those thoughts for a future conversation. “I like when they’ve used me and have so much regret in their eyes, like they can’t believe what they just did to me.”

Wade finally lowered Peter’s zipper and brought his face up to Peter’s underwear. Peter wasn’t sure if he could feel Wade’s breath or if he just imagined it. He thought about shoving against Wade, but he figured that Wade might deprive him further. “My johns would tell me that this was the last time; their wife or girlfriend or parents were starting to notice, and they couldn’t be deviants anymore. They’d come back eventually and they’d be rougher with me, then throw me a little extra green to apologize.” 

If Peter was in any other state, he would have appreciated Wade’s openness about his past. All Peter could think about was a younger Wade getting hate-fucked behind a dumpster and the money that was thrown on his cum covered, limp body. It was a shame humans didn’t have much interest in Wade, given his current appearance. There must be some way to give Wade a traditionally attractive facade to allow him to do his work easier. Peter would prefer to keep Wade as he was, but he also wanted to see more of the sensual, confident Wade he caught in his memories. “Did you like that?”

“I guess the sex was fun. ” He shrugged. Peter could understand the sentiment. When one had frequent intercourse, it became repetitive. An irritated, vitriolic partner was welcome to break up the monotony, even if that led to some physical discomfort. “I thought their anger was funny. I was shameless, back then. Didn’t know what shame even was until the good book taught me. I didn’t know why they were so angry. I get it, now.” Wade almost absentmindedly kissed a line from Peter’s underwear to his bellybutton. There was some nostalgia, there. Maybe Wade was allowing himself to view those memories in a different light. “I think I’d enjoy it more, now. Those bruises would be a badge of honor.” He jolted out of the past and met Peter’s gaze once again. “My apologies, my mind got away from me. Where were we, again?”

“You were going to suck me down, fast and wet. That’s what we were.”

Wade sat back and pondered, as though he was debating if there was another reason he would be sitting in front of Peter’s crotch. “Hmm, I suppose that sounds right.”

Satan must be looking out for poor Peter because Wade finally stopped teasing him. He slumped against the door when Wade licked luxuriously along the veins Peter’s cock. It wasn’t exactly what Peter needed, but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

Peter was almost ready to start begging unintelligibly when Wade took him into his mouth. It wasn’t as fluid nor as deep as Peter could, but Wade was obviously putting his heart and soul into it. He didn’t shy away from gagging and took great care to keep his teeth away. It was messy and Wade didn’t seem to notice when his saliva dripped from his chin onto the floor in thick globs. His eyes were glazed, but they never left Peter’s. His pupils were so large that the cornea vanished. The eye contact combined with their transfer of emotions skyrocketed the intensity of the intimacy. It was like being lost completely in another person.

Peter held onto Wade’s horns like handlebars but didn’t use them fuck Wade’s face. Some part of him was still playing the game that Wade had started, and he wanted to treat Wade like John had treated him. 

Wade was enraptured so his task that Peter did not think that Wade realized he was doing absolutely filthy things to Peter’s seal. That seal was something of an erogenous zone, sparking shots of electricity from where it was touched to across his body. Wade dug his claws into the contours of the concentric design and followed their path across Peter’s leg. Peter wanted to know how it felt without his pants in the way, if Wade would be willing to press his claws into the divots hard enough to draw blood, what a wet tongue would feel like lathing at the edges, what a tooth would feel like nibbling at the junctions. His vocabulary had shrunk to a few select words that could not ask for such things, so he simply let himself enjoy the onslaught. 

Wade drew it out and tried to make Peter last; Peter wanted to last, but his body was too weak to endure. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t manage to enjoy Wade’s mouth for longer. Between the oral he had given earlier, Wade’s relentless foreplay, and Wade being a sexy, devious demon, Peter never stood a chance. 

Wade let Peter slide onto the floor, and they sat across from one another as they recovered. Wade didn’t make an effort to clean himself and looked like the picture of debauchery. His lips were stretched and pink, and his face was glistening with drool. 

Peter anticipated the waves of Wade’s regret to spoil the good mood , but they didn’t. Wade stayed tranquil, relaxed, and self-satisfied. Peter waited for the other shoe to drop, shifting his weight uneasily, until Wade said, “What would you have done if he wanted more?”

That particular arrangement of words meant nothing to Peter, so he dumbly asked, “Huh?”

“What would you have done if John wanted more of your body.”

“I would have declined.” If John had wanted to fuck him, they would have needed to wait for John to harden again, and who knows how long that would have taken. If he wanted Peter to fuck him, they would have needed to stretch him out. Either option would have taken far too long and someone would have gotten suspicious. “You told me not to keep you waiting.”

Wade seemed annoyed by Peter’s practical answer. “What if you didn’t have to worry about time or people or anything?”

Peter realized that he was thinking slowly. Wade was obviously letting him dictate how their evening proceeded. He was partial to just about any sort of sexual act and position, but he thought about how Wade had already had him and how he wanted to know how tight Wade’s ass felt around his dick. “I’d let him tear off my clothes and fill me in any position he wanted, as many times as he wanted.”

Wade slid forward to sit in Peter’s lap, wrapping his legs around Peter’s waist. Their size difference made it a little awkward and their clothes were not made for this degree of movement, but they managed. Wade kissed Peter for a few minutes, giving him a thorough taste of himself, and murmured, “Maybe it would be better if you just show me this time.”

They barely received an hour of sleep that night. Peter had to reschedule his appointments because he could barely move the next morning. Those sorts of petty consequences didn’t matter; all Peter needed was Wade. Wade’s body inexplicably felt like the home he’d never thought he’d feel again. 

****  
The next night, Wade quietly discussed with Peter how he should go about writing the letter to Father Summers and a few logistical considerations. Peter let him borrow a notebook to draft the letter and some stationary for the final version. Peter read the drafts, corrected grammar, and helped revise Wade’s work. He suggested a few creative exclusions which technically didn’t make Wade a liar and would be more palpable for the recipient. After filling a decent chunk of the notebook, Wade was happy with it, and slowly copied the contents onto the stationary. He joked to Peter about his shoddy penmanship to ease his own tension, but his shoulders were still stuck to his ears. 

He nervously handed the finished letter to Peter to read just one more time. 

Father Nathan Summers,

I regret to inform you that I left Dentin. Due to circumstances in and out of my control, I cannot return to there or to the Church. The details are too complicated to describe in this letter, though I’ll assure you that no one was hurt and I have done nothing criminal. I’m safe, but I’ve had to leave behind my collar and cassock for a secular existence. 

It is not easy, but I’m adjusting. I’m travelling with a doctor named Peter. He’s helping me through this transition. I am not so old, and I’ve gone through many life changing events. This one appears to be permanent, though I do not know what the future brings. Peter is training me to be an assistant of sorts. I’m not good at it yet, but I’m striving to be useful to my purpose.

I wanted to emphasize what a valuable person you’ve been for all these years. You saved my life and I will always be grateful for the second chance you’ve given me. Our friendship has gotten me through many of the hardships I’ve faced, and I cannot thank you enough for all you have done. 

I do not blame you if you want nothing to do with me after this letter. I am a failure of a priest, and that may disgust you. I’m deeply sorry, and if that is the case, I wish you the best.

However, if you would like a correspondence with me despite that, I’ve opened an avenue to do so. I rented a PO box at the address noted on the return address. Peter said we can check the PO box two to three times per year. I would be very happy to hear from you, but I understand if you would prefer that our friendship ends here. 

Thank you for the impact you’ve had on me. You are a fantastic man, one that I’ve always aspired to be. 

Best Wishes,  
Wade Winston Wilson

Peter nodded and handed the letter and an envelope to Wade. Wade carefully folded the letter and sealed away the last of the man he used to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a feels trip, but think about the future, Wade! It's all up from here :)
> 
> Merry Christmas, so those who celebrate. I hope you all are happy and healthy.
> 
> A few questions, if people want to discuss in the comments:  
> 1) What would Wade's happily-ever-after be?  
> 2) Is Peter good, neutral, or evil? I personally think he's neutral, but I think it depends on how you read it.  
> 3) What version of hell do you think awaits them?


End file.
